


None Like This: One Shots

by captainsourwolf



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Rival Lawyers, So much smut, but also sweet stuff?, lets just go ahead and say SEX in big bold letters, so much sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2020-12-28 08:10:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 42,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21133478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainsourwolf/pseuds/captainsourwolf
Summary: A collection of moments set in the None Like This universe.





	1. the contact picture

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU HAVE NOT READ NONE LIKE THIS THEN YOU NEED TO DO SO. You won’t understand half of what’s going on if you haven’t read that story first!!!!
> 
> These won’t be in any specific order. They’re just a collection of moments between the time these dumb lawyer boys meet and after Link’s birthday in the final chapter. This is a way for me to bide my time inbetween chapters of Hopeless Wanderer (HINT HINT).

The hotel Rhett is standing in front of is--well, it’s a little flashy. The outside is big and bright and has a fountain for fuck’s sake. But it’s discreet enough by being on the other side of town, far enough away from anybody that might know or recognize them. Rhett is thankful for that at least. 

He struts inside, checking his phone one more time for the room number Link sent him. It’s on the top floor, of course, because Link can’t resist splurging on fancy things every once in awhile. He gets on the elevator and hits the button for the top floor, foot tapping impatiently on the marbled floor. 

Their fight today was particularly epic. It all started with a case. Rhett was coming down off a high from winning one for his client while Link was fretting over a dramatic turn of events in his case. It was hard not to tease the other man and get him worked up, but then Link lost and exploded. He was positive he would win, had every available resource he needed, and even a witness that the opposing side couldn’t get. Rhett knew this was stressing him out but he pushed anyway. 

Link snapped when Rhett made a smart remark. From there it dissolved into one of their loudest and fiercest arguments. People around the office kept poking their heads in while they ranted and raved, and at one point Tim came in and tried to stop them both. It was a fight that ended with Rhett shoving Link up against a filing cabinet and kissing him quiet.

Now, as Rhett rides the elevator, he’s suddenly nervous. Link demanded they meet up at the hotel right after work. This fight was too good to fuck it out in the office, so Rhett agreed but was apprehensive. Link was angry then and he was angry an hour ago when he left the office. Rhett got caught up in paperwork which got Link even more worked up; he wanted them to leave together, he was on edge, he needed to get out of there with Rhett by his side.

The elevator dings and the doors open. Rhett steps out, on edge and nervous to see what awaits him in the room. He silently makes his way down the hall and around the corner, coming face to face with the door for the biggest suite in the place. The Do Not Disturb sign is already hanging on the knob. He can’t help the spike of arousal seeing that sign causes. It mixes with the nervousness and sets his pulse racing.

Link has never been this angry when they’ve fucked. He’s seen Link on his worst days, he’s seen him on the days where he’s so mad he could break something, but today’s anger is different. Rhett figures it started when the stress of the case began eating at the other man. Link has never been the type to just let things go; he lets it simmer for a few hours and then takes it out on Rhett later. _This_ has been simmering for days, and Rhett isn’t sure he wants to experience it, but he is intrigued all the same.

Rhett knocks on the door only to find it’s already unlocked. He steps inside quietly and closes the door, locking it behind him. The room is huge. It opens up into a seating area with a too big television, a fully stocked kitchen, and a bathroom that even from the outside looks expensive. He wouldn’t mind exploring the place later but for now he’s on a mission to find Link. 

Rhett moves through the room, can’t stop himself from perusing the bar on his way by; maybe later, after they’ve completely wrung each other dry. The room is mostly quiet, but the closer he gets to what he assumes is the bedroom door, the more he can hear soft sounds on the other side. He kicks his shoes and socks off on the way, undoes his tie and tosses it somewhere behind him; no use wasting time tonight. The noises are getting louder, more persistent.

“Link?” Rhett calls out. He grabs the door handle, door already slightly ajar, but a moan on the other side stops him. He freezes for a moment, breath quickening as he pushes the door open all the way. 

The bedroom is dim. Rhett has to squint a little bit at the change in lighting. He steps further into the room and lets the door shut behind him. He can hear Link, moaning loudly and grunting, along with a slick sound that lights a fire in Rhett’s belly. He knows that sound; that sound has him speeding up until he’s finally seeing Link. 

Link who is naked and on all fours on the bed. He’s reaching around his thigh and has three lubed up fingers shoved inside himself, moving them frantically. He’s panting, body slick with sweat, light from the bedside lamp bouncing off the droplets and making his skin glow. His cock and balls hang heavy between his legs, a sight to see. Rhett is transfixed as he stands there watching. He can feel his own cock hardening in his pants rapidly. 

“Starting without me, huh?” he asks and starts to move. On his way to the bed he unbuttons his shirt first. Link has turned his head, staring at Rhett over his shoulder, face screwed up in pleasure. Rhett removes his shirt and slings it off his arms, then gets his belt undone so he can he pop the button and slide down the zipper of his pants.

“I got impatient,” Link huffs, eyes bunching up around the corners. “You were s’pose to be here an hour ago.” He must hit that sweet spot because he suddenly jerks his hips and falls to his elbow, moaning loud and ragged. He’s huffing when he rights himself. “Too riled up to wait,” he pants. 

By the time Rhett has reached the huge bed he’s naked. He tosses his wallet, keys, and phone somewhere on a nightstand for safekeeping before crawling on the bed. Link is watching him, eyes unfocused, as Rhett walks on his knees across the mattress. He automatically reaches for Link, but Link nips at his fingers, catching one a little painfully.

“Don’t bite,” Rhett warns. 

“Then don’t touch,” Link snaps back. “You’ll get your turn.” Rolling his eyes, Rhett gets behind Link and sits back, just watching for a moment. Link won’t last long like this, three fingers deep and hips moving in small circles, head dropped between his shoulders. He’s a vision with his legs spread slightly and his skin slick; Rhett could watch him like this for the rest of the night. 

Rhett sighs and wraps a hand around his cock. In only a couple of strokes he’s fully hard and can feel the fluttering in his stomach begin. He won’t last long either if Link keeps this up. Link spread out like this in front of him only adds fuel to the fire. But he doesn’t want to get off like this; he wants Link in his lap, cock buried deep, Rhett’s name on his lips. 

Link’s groan gets Rhett’s attention. He’s fallen to his elbow again and doesn’t look to be getting up any time soon. His hand is moving at a faster pace and the sound of it makes Rhett shiver. He strokes his hand over his cock, teasing around the head, eyes fluttering closed at the touch of his own hand. Link suddenly stills and Rhett sees his gaze has turned on him. 

Sighing, Link withdraws his fingers, pushing his hips back to chase the feeling. Rhett speeds up his hand while Link sits back then faces him. He’s smirking but his eyes are wild and his face is flushed and sweaty. Rhett moans at the sight of him. 

“Stop touching yourself,” Link murmurs. Rhett wants to argue but he wants to fuck Link more. He can’t help the surge of arousal that shoots up his spine every time Link gets bossy, but tonight it’s more intense; there’s anger behind it, simmering and close to bursting. Rhett should feel ashamed at how much it turns him on. He doesn’t think he can get any harder but his cock twitches and jerks and proves him wrong. 

“You’re bossy tonight,” Rhett huffs. He keeps his hands on his thighs, waiting to see what Link is going to do. 

“You’re an asshole,” Link says sharply. He walks on his knees towards Rhett, eyes still wild and burning. Once he’s there he wraps his hand around Rhett’s cock and gives an experimental tug. Rhett inhales quick. “You knew I was stressed, but you pushed, like always.” His voice is thick like honey and Rhett wants that sound around his dick. Link strokes him slowly, thumbs underneath the head, catching a bead of precum and smearing it around. “I lost that case today and you _pushed_ and _pushed_ even after you knew how mad I was.”

Rhett swallows hard. There’s a lump rising in his throat; it’s a mix between an addicting arousal and slight fear. Link grabs Rhett’s hand and guides it to his own cock. Rhett gets the hint and holds himself steady as Link rises up further on his knees. He scoots closer, hands coming to rest on Rhett’s cheeks. Any other time it would be a hint of intimacy between them, but tonight it’s a dangerous reminder of how angry Link is. 

Link kisses him, fingers tangling in his beard. He sucks Rhett’s bottom lip between his teeth and bites down hard enough to make Rhett jerk. It stings but it’s a good sting; it shoots straight to his cock and makes him moan. Link bites down a little harder then soothes it with his tongue. He situates himself above Rhett, kisses him one more time, then slowly sinks down on Rhett’s cock.

Rhett huffs and has to lean back on his other hand. Link is being a tease as he rolls his hips, taking in Rhett at an agonizing pace. He throws his head back, exposing his throat, and Rhett can’t help himself. He pushes forward and grabs Link with both hands, makes sure he has a firm grip on his waist, and thrusts his hips up. Link bottoms out in one swift move that leaves him shuddering. 

“To make it up to me,” Link moans softly, “you can fuck me good and proper. Don’t hold back.” Rhett groans and sinks his teeth into Link’s shoulder. 

Rhett surges forward, up on his knees again, Link holding onto his biceps, and maneuvers their bodies until Link is on his back. Link laughs in delight and rolls his hips up, urging Rhett to move. 

“Tell me you’re sure,” Rhett says. There have been plenty of times throughout the last few years just like this, with one of them pissed about something, and Link begging to be fucked within an inch of his life. But neither of them have ever been this mad. Link has never been this scary underneath him, eyes wild and hands clawing at him desperately. 

Link rolls his eyes and groans. He gets a hand on his cock and rotates his hips again and again, trying to get Rhett to move, to bury himself deeper. “Yes, _yes_, yeah, Rhett. I’m sure. _Fuck me_, dammit.” His voice has taken on an edge that Rhett can’t figure out. 

Rhett drops to his elbows to hold himself up. Link is waiting impatiently and stroking himself. Rhett can hear desperate whimpers spilling from his throat so he presses their lips together to swallow the sounds. Link sinks into it for just a moment before wrenching his mouth away and turning his head away from Rhett. 

Growling, Rhett pulls back, almost the entire way out, before pushing back in until their hips are flush. He does it again and again, pace picking up speed. Link wraps his legs around Rhett’s waist and digs his heels into the backs of Rhett’s thighs, urging him on. 

“Come on, baby, you can do better than that,” Link taunts. His knuckles brush Rhett’s stomach with every furious stroke over his cock. He’s a mess underneath Rhett with his sweaty skin, brows furrowed in pleasure, and breathing ragged. 

Rhett wishes suddenly that he could take a picture to keep for the coming days. He smirks at Link and Link rolls his eyes. He’s panting and has his free hand twisted in the duvet above his head and he looks wrecked. With every thrust of Rhett’s pelvis Link loses it more and more. He’s moaning and gripping the duvet almost too tight and squeezing his thighs around Rhett’s waist. 

Rhett can feel his release already, but he doesn’t want it to end so soon. He slows down, making Link growl and urge him on with his heels, but Rhett won’t comply. He grips Link’s chin in his hand and forces him to look at Rhett. They stare at each other for a moment, Link licking his lips, Rhett shuddering. He shifts and Link’s eyes close, a breathy moan escaping. 

“Move your hand,” Rhett whispers. Link reluctantly lets go of his cock and that hand joins his other to tangle in the blanket. “Don’t touch yourself anymore. You’re gonna cum on just my cock and then,” Rhett rolls his hips, pushing his cock deep and making Link whine, “_then_ I’m going to get myself off on that pretty face. Okay?” 

Link manages a nod and swallows hard. Rhett watches the way his throat bobs and can’t wait to see it painted white. He’s going to make sure Link forgets his anger. That in mind, he releases Link’s chin and tilts his head back farther, latching his lips onto Link’s pulse point and sucking a bruise into his skin. Link is trying his best to thrust his hips up and get Rhett to move. 

“Rhett, please,” Link whispers. Something in his voice has changed; it’s more sincere, thick with something that isn’t anger. Rhett frowns, shakes it off, and moves to another spot on his neck. He pulls his cock out to the head then slams right back in, Link’s breath hitching in his chest. He does it again, this time running his tongue over the dip in Link’s throat. When he does it a third time Link tightens his grip on Rhett’s waist and jerks the duvet so hard Rhett swears he hears it rip a little. 

Link has gone silent below Rhett. When Rhett looks at him, he can see Link’s face is scrunched up, brows knitted together, and his eyes are closed. Rhett presses a kiss to his jaw and thrusts in again, this time a little rough and a little bruising. Link will feel this for days if Rhett has his way. He starts up a faster pace, hips snapping against Link’s, the sound of skin on skin driving him wild. 

Rhett is almost there so he angles just right and with one more thrust Link is jerking and moaning. He arches his back and Rhett can feel his cock twitching between them, releasing in hot spurts on his own chest and Rhett’s. He tenses up his entire body, thighs like a vice around Rhett, moaning through it and shaking.   
Rhett wastes no time pulling out and sitting back on his knees. Link’s legs fall open around him and Rhett is tempted to push right back in and cum like that. But he told Link how he was going to do it and he can’t disappoint. So he moves over Link’s body until he’s hovering over Link’s chest, hand gripping the base of his cock so he doesn’t lose it before he makes good on his word. 

Link is still twitching and shaking, coming down from his high, blue eyes burning as he stares up at Rhett. Rhett is struck with a sudden pang of arousal that has him falling forward on his free hand. He groans and begins stroking himself at a rapid pace. It isn’t long before he’s gasping and thrusting into his fist, hips stilling as his orgasm hits him and leaves him breathless. He cums in thick white ropes over Link’s collarbone and throat. With one more slow stroke and squeeze he finishes on his hand then collapses.

“You missed my face,” Link pants. Rhett says nothing. He’s struck with the urge to take a picture again, so he fishes around on the nightstand for his phone. He ignores the mess he’s leaving behind and streaking on the screen as he pulls up the camera and props himself up. 

It’s a perfect shot. Link has his head thrown back, sighing deeply and eyes closing, streaks of white painting his tan skin in the most obscene way. Rhett feels kind of sleazy doing it but he snaps the photo anyway. Link whips his head around.

“Did you just take a picture?” he asks, smirking. 

Rhett laughs and tosses his phone onto the bed so he can get his mouth on Link’s flushed and sweaty skin. He takes his time licking up every drop. When he’s done and Link is shuddering under him again, he grins. 

“Yep. It’s gonna be what I see every time your name pops up.”

Link just laughs.


	2. sleepy feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one ended up being kinda fluffy? it's supposed to be a glimpse into a time when rhett starts feeling ~feelings. also, it's set not long after link gets his hair cut.

Rhett is _exhausted_. The week has been filled with long days and even longer nights. The mornings have found him being up well before four a.m. and he hasn’t been arriving home until ten or later. This case has him working overtime and has left him very grumpy, much to Link’s enjoyment. The opportunity to screw each other has been few and far between for the last several days, and Rhett is feeling it.

It’s finally Friday, though. Rhett hasn’t looked forward to a Friday night in so long that he has almost forgotten what it feels like. His personal life has taken a nosedive lately, and this week made it even worse. He’s ready to go home, has his things in hand and his office keys stuck in the door, when Link finds him.

“Headin’ home?” he asks quietly. Rhett straightens up after locking the door and faces him, yawning. Link’s new hair is a floppy mess over his head; Rhett tries not to smile at the sight of it.

“Yeah, man, m’tired. Aren’t you?” Rhett yawns again as the pair of them walk down the hall together. He bumps into Link sleepily, knuckles brushing against the other man’s. He shivers at the touch and tries not to think about what it means that he felt a surge of something at the slight brush. 

Link trudges ahead of him, speeding up at the sight of the elevators. Pretending it’s because of exhaustion, he admires Link from behind. It’s never been lost on Rhett that Link is a good looking man. But he doesn’t let himself admire Link this way. They hate each other, there are no feelings behind it at all. So blaming it on how tired he is is the perfect excuse to give the other man a once over.

Even tired, Link’s hips sway in a delicious way with every step. His tiny waist is framed perfectly by his snug button down and it stretches across his broad shoulders in a way that makes Rhett bite his lip to stop from moaning. The pants he’s wearing today are snug in all the right places, especially over his ass. Rhett’s cock gives an interested twitch but he’s so tired he doesn’t think it will go much further.

“Like what ya see?” 

Rhett jumps. Link leans against the wall by the elevators, a smirk quirking up his lips, and his hands shoved in his pockets. He’s been caught. The blush that rises in his cheeks is hot and quick. Under normal circumstances he would roll his eyes, maybe make a smart remark just to get Link riled up, but tonight he can’t. 

“What if I do?” Rhett replies. He comes to stand by Link to wait on the elevator. They’re _flirting_. It startles Rhett to think about. The two of them don’t flirt. They tease, they taunt, they get each other riled up and tearing at clothes. But they _don’t flirt_ with each other. 

“Then you might have to take me home.” Link winks at Rhett. 

Despite the tired ache in his body, Rhett crowds Link into the elevator as the doors open. He gets Link pressed along the wall and wraps an arm around his waist, gathering him up. Rhett goes to kiss him, wants to see how far they can go before reaching the parking garage, but Link yawns right in his face. The moment is gone and Link is laughing.

“I’m so tired, I can’t concentrate,” he says around another yawn. Rhett groans and drops his forehead on Link’s shoulder, huffing into his neck. “But still take me home and I’ll try to show you a good time.” He’s whispering in Rhett’s ear and a hand has come up to cradle the back of Rhett’s neck.

Oh. _Oh_. 

The pang Rhett feels starts where Link’s hand holds him and travels through every limb, not stopping until it reaches his fingertips and toes. Rhett shudders, blames it on the creeping exhaustion again, and tries not to dig his fingers into Link’s backside. 

*

They manage to reach Rhett’s apartment without falling asleep on each other; they were too tired to drive their own cars so they got an Uber last minute and decided to leave their cars overnight. Link initiated a kiss in the backseat, sleepy and warm, and Rhett had to feign a yawn to stop himself from sinking into it. 

Rhett unlocks the door and Link stumbles in behind him, bag falling to the floor by Rhett’s, and hands already reaching for clothes. He unknots the tie first and yanks it over Rhett’s head, uses shaking fingers to undo the buttons of his shirt, then jerk it out of his pants. He yawns a couple more times while he’s working, but Rhett doesn’t mind. It’s cute and Link is cute and--

_Stop right there, McLaughlin_. 

Rhett shakes his head and with a newfound burst of energy, has Link across the room and on the bed in no time. He knew when he found this studio apartment that the bed being right there in the open would come in handy. Link bounces a little on the mattress but he’s smiling sleepily up at Rhett. 

There it is again: that pang of something. It shoots through his nerves this time and settles somewhere in his gut. He shakes it off and strips down to his underwear. Link reaches for him, but Rhett bats his hands away and starts undressing him. Link moans softly, eyes closing briefly, before fluttering open and staring straight at Rhett.

Rhett’s breath hitches in his throat. He ignores it and keeps going until Link is naked underneath him and has a leg thrown over Rhett’s shoulder. He’s already half-hard and Rhett is right there with him. He wraps a hand around Link, strokes him slow and teasing until he’s hard in Rhett’s hand and moaning. 

“I thought _you_ were gonna show _me_ a good time?” Rhett teases. Link rolls his hips up into Rhett’s fist. 

“You got me here first,” Link huffs. His leg drops to Rhett’s waist. “Too tired, you do all the work.” Link splays his arms and free leg out, head dropping back to expose his throat. He grins at the ceiling.

Rhett rolls his eyes and grabs Link’s leg under his knee and guides him to wrap it around Rhett’s waist. “Put a _little_ effort into it, Neal,” Rhett groans, hips rocking against Link’s ass. “If you want it you gotta participate.” 

When Rhett twists his hand around the head of Link’s cock, Link arches his back. He moans high in his chest, hands scrabbling to find purchase somewhere. Rhett does it again and slicks him up with the precum he finds there. 

It’s too much effort to take this very far. So Rhett gets himself lined up with Link and takes both their cocks in hand. He nudges at Link until he gets the hint. Long fingers wrap around Rhett’s, and Link moans again, hips rocking into their combined fist, leg tightening against Rhett’s waist. It’s a little uncomfortable and the exhaustion has settled in deep, but they’re both determined.

When Link cums over their joined hands moments later Rhett groans and tries not to think about how intimate the position feels, pressed together, both of them sleepy, _flirty_ in their mutual tired state; Link’s other hand is grasping at Rhett’s shoulder, dragging him closer, and Rhett finally lets himself sink into it. The feeling works its way through his body, sending shivers down his spine. It nearly wrecks him when he sees the faint smile Link has directed towards him and the way his eyes are fluttering, dark lashes brushing his cheeks. 

“Come on, baby,” Link murmurs, soft. He brings his hand up to his mouth, not too tired to lick his fingers clean, staring at Rhett the entire time. Link smirks as Rhett strokes himself faster, breath coming out in short puffs as he works. 

Within a few strokes he’s releasing over his hand and Link’s spent cock. Link bites his bottom lip, moaning and grabs Rhett’s hand. Sucking in a breath, Rhett watches as Link licks clean every drop off his hand. The noise he makes is unbecoming of someone his age but he can’t help it; Link knows how to turn him on, even when they’re both exhausted. 

“Was that enough effort for you?” Link asks. Rhett drops to the bed next to him and smacks him on the chest. He shoves a hand through his sweaty hair, grimacing at the feel of it. Suddenly the mattress is moving and Link is rolling towards him, but Rhett dodges the move and gets up, pretending he didn’t notice. 

“Gonna shower,” he grunts and quickly gathers up a fresh pair of briefs and a plain white tee. He doesn’t look back as he hurries to the bathroom and shuts the door.

*  
Rhett emerges from the bathroom half an hour later, refreshed and a little more awake than he was earlier. He’s toweling off his hair with one hand and brushing his teeth with the other, preparing himself to kick Link out so he can go to sleep, when he finds the other man still in his bed. But he’s not awake.

Link is on his side, comforter drawn up around his shoulders and head, only his messy hair visible. He’s breathing deep and Rhett can hear a soft snore. He hesitates. What does he do? This has never happened before. They have always made it clear that they’re not allowed to spend the night. Accidents happen, but they wake each other up and unceremoniously shove the other out the door, whether it’s early evening or middle of the night.

Rhett finishes brushing his teeth and goes back to the bathroom. He finishes up and hangs his towel, steels himself before walking out. Maybe he was imagining it. Maybe the exhaustion has clouded his brain and he isn’t seeing things straight. Maybe--

_No_. Link is still there, Rhett didn’t imagine it. He comes to stand by the bed and stares at Link’s sleeping form. He looks comfortable with the blankets drawn up tightly like that, and his nose is scrunched like he’s dreaming, mouth parted as he breathes deeply. Rhett considers it for a moment, blames it on how tired he is. He sinks into the mattress on his knees and leans over Link, getting a better view.

The lamp by the bed casts a warm glow on Link’s face. It makes him look almost angelic. Rhett snorts; he knows better. He shifts a little and Rhett panics, reeling back comically. Link settles on his back still sleeping soundly. Sighing, Rhett sits back on his knees, watching Link’s chest move. He wants to reach out, tease his fingers over the delicate skin of his collarbone, kiss his neck, maybe his jawline. He wants to kiss that spot behind his ear that makes Link laugh, then do it again and again until laughter is the only thing he hears.

Rhett’s chest seizes up. He shakes his head, grabs his pillow and the throw he keeps at the foot of the bed, and makes his way to the couch. He gets it set up fast before flinging himself onto it and settling in for an uncomfortable night of sleep. 

That weird and unsettling pang nestles somewhere between his ribs. Rhett sighs, pushes it to the back of his mind, and goes to sleep.


	3. Chris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so glad everyone is enjoying these idiot lawyers again. it's nice trying to think of everything that happened in between all those years.

Link noticed the intern the first time he walked through the door carrying trays full of coffee. Tall, blonde hair, obnoxiously white teeth, he was gorgeous. He immediately caught Link’s eye. When he brought Link his coffee their fingers brushed and Link grinned.

This could be _fun_. It’s not like he has anyone else vying for his attention or affections. Certainly not a freakishly tall giant with green eyes and messy hair and beard. So Link watches his ass sway when he turns around to leave and doesn’t think about somebody else.

Link finds out his name is Chris and he has only been at McLaughlin & Neal for a couple of weeks. He graduated from Stanford, a long way from home, but the move to work here was worth it. He sees Chris a couple of more times throughout the day, both times carrying an assortment of coffees and pastries. He can’t help the surge of arousal he feels when Chris glances at him and smirks. He knows Link is looking and that Link likes what he sees.

Halfway through the day Link corners him at the secretary’s desk outside his office. Chris has some files in hand meant for Link so Link takes them gracefully and pretends to flip through them, hip leaning against the desk and feet crossed. Rhett told him once that he looked sexy when he did that.

_Don’t think about Rhett_. 

Link glances over the top of the files to see if Chris is looking. He _is_. Link grins, then schools his face back into a flirty smile and lays the folders on the desk. He folds his hands in front of him, Chris watching his every move. 

“Your dad sent those over, said to start preparing for something,” Chris says and leans on his elbow on top of the desk. A smile creeps across his face and he shuffles closer, fingers tapping next to Link’s hand. He quickly looks over at the secretary, sees she isn’t looking, and puts a hand on top of Link’s.

Link grins. “Is that so?” he asks. He knows exactly what the files are for, but could care less right now. “Why don’t you come show me what they’re for?” He pushes off from the desk, grabs the pile, and waltzes off to his office, Chris following behind. 

*  
Link gets Chris in his bed in no time. It only takes an afternoon of flirting under the guise that he needs the intern’s help for the rest of the day for Chris to make a move. He crowded Link against the record collection, kissed him, and whispered in Link’s ear about how good his ass looked in those pants. Link teased him for it, put his hands on Chris’ waist, tugged at the button down tucked neatly into tan slacks. That was all it took for him to agree to come home with Link.

Now, right on the edge and breathless, Link can’t believe his luck getting someone like Chris in his bed. He’s gorgeous and he’s tall and he’s nice to look at, so nice to look at. He’s nothing like Rhett. 

Rhett is--Rhett is _Rhett_. He’s freakishly tall, his hair is a mess of golden curls that get fluffy when Link runs his hands through them enough, his eyes are green but on a stormy day they resemble more of a grey-green. He doesn’t smile with teeth like Link does; he hides it behind his beard but it’s still a nice smile. When he laughs Link gets a fluttery feeling in his chest that he shoves down as deep as possible. And when he uses his hands Link has to swallow hard and try not to grab them in his own.

_Fuck_.

Link might be in deep, but Rhett shows no signs of giving in. He didn’t do anything when Link kissed him soft and sweet during their third year, and he hasn’t done anything since then. Link knows they both felt something that day and Link has been feeling something for ages, has been trying his best to get Rhett worked up enough that he will spill the beans, but the other man just won’t budge. It’s starting to hurt a little.

Chris drives in harder and Link thinks about Rhett. He thinks about how Rhett’s much taller frame covers him when they’re in this exact same position; Chris is tall but he doesn’t dwarf Link like that. He thinks about the way Rhett’s voice sounds when he’s close; Chris says nothing, just grunts and groans in an obnoxious way. He thinks about Rhett’s hands gripping him around the hips in a bruising hold, but Chris doesn’t put any feeling into it; he holds Link, just not in the way Link wants. 

Rhett is on his mind, always, and his name is right there on the tip of Link’s tongue when Chris shoves him down, cheek to mattress, and fucks him harder and faster. He’s panting into the sheets, hands grasping so tightly his knuckles are white, and he’s trying his best to keep the name at bay and not pretend it’s Rhett pounding him into the mattress. Link shudders and moans and pushes his hips back, urging the other man on. 

Link is almost there, he can feel it in the way his toes curl and his spine tingles, so he closes his eyes and _does not think of Rhett_. He doesn’t picture Rhett looming over him and running his hands across Link’s back and sides, stopping at his ass and spreading him open a little more. He doesn’t imagine the filthy words spilling out of the other man’s mouth. He definitely doesn’t think about Rhett hitting that sweet spot inside, like Chris is doing now, over and over again. 

Link’s orgasm hits him fast and he’s burying his moan into the bed below, hands white-knuckled in the sheets, and a name on his tongue. But it isn’t “_Chris_.” Instead he moans loud and wanton, “_Rhett_,” and doesn’t realize he’s done it until he’s spent and has to be held up.

Chris stops and pulls out. Link whines, wants to feel Chris cum inside of him, a welcome reminder that this isn’t Rhett. But then he goes slack and wide-eyed, brain catching up with the fog of release. 

“I’m not--_what_?” Chris splutters. 

Link rolls over and tries to play it off like he doesn’t know what Chris is talking about. He fixes his gaze on the other man’s face and smiles slow, showing off his teeth; Rhett told him recently that when he does that it’s no wonder people fall to their knees for him. 

“You called me Rhett,” Chris accuses and sits back on his knees. He’s still hard so Link gets up on his hands and knees and crawls to him, settling in his lap and arms draping over Chris’ shoulders. “No, don’t, Link. You called me _Rhett_.” Chris glares at Link and Link glares back.

“Is it a problem?” Link says nonchalant. He rolls his hips and Chris groans. “It better not be,” he whispers and reaches between them to get a hand around Chris. Chris nods furiously. 

Slip up forgotten for the moment, Link finishes him off quietly. After he goes to shower alone, leaving Chris, _not Rhett_, on the bed satisfied and sleepy.

*  
At the office the next morning, Link calls for Chris. He shuffles in awkwardly and straightens his tie, looking everywhere but Link’s face. 

“Come here,” Link says in his best boss voice. His shaking hands betray the authoritative voice but he shoves them in his pockets so Chris doesn’t see. Chris stands before him, nerves apparent in the way he can’t keep his hands and feet still. Link rolls his eyes and takes one hand out of his pocket to indicate the open file on his desktop. 

“An NDA,” Link says. He clears his throat around the lump that’s forming and tries to swallow and steel his nerves. Chris looks offended. “Sign it, right now, or I’ll--”

“Or you’ll what, Link?” Chris steps closer and knocks the file back. Glaring, Link stops it and picks the folder up, shoving it into Chris’ space. 

Link comes around the desk, gets right into his space, and shoves the file hard against his chest. “Sign it, _now_. This way I can keep a leash on you and still have fun.” He watches the way Chris’ throat bobs on a silent gulp. He scrambles to take the document out of Link’s hands and snatches up a pen. 

Chris sighs as he leans over on the desk to sign the non-disclosure agreement. Link watches him to make sure he signs all the necessary lines, feeling something in his chest constrict. He didn’t want to do this but the moment he said Rhett’s name he knew, he just knew, the other man would try to out them. An NDA is what’s best for Link, Rhett, and their jobs. 

When Chris is done he tosses the pen onto the desk forcefully enough that it skids across the top and onto the floor. 

“You know I really wouldn’t say anything, this isn’t necessary. I’m just in it for the fun.” Chris reaches for Link’s tie.

Link steps back and silently goes to sit. He signs his part and closes the folder, tucks it away neatly in his locked filing cabinet behind the desk. Chris just stands there, baffled. When Link turns around he fixes his expression into a neutral one. 

“If you tell anyone,” Link starts, voice dropping low and deep. This is the voice he uses on clients when they’re pissing him off. It usually works effectively and gets him what he wants, and he always feels kind of bad after using it. But Chris isn’t flinching. “I’ll sue you so fast you won’t even know what’s going on. I’ll wring you dry of every penny you own and kick your ass back to the town you came from.”

This makes Chris flinch. He nods and backs away, hands raised in a placating gesture, before turning and striding out of Link’s office with all the confidence he had when they met. 

Link slumps into his chair and tries not to think about the offending file locked away behind him.


	4. gray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these idiot lawyer boys are still dumb. and this one is just filthy. i promise all of these one-shots won't be about sex.

Rhett started noticing Link’s hair turning gray somewhere around two years after he gets it cut. It’s a gradual change, starting with just a few strands here and there, and every time Link dyes them that deeper shade of brown. Rhett doesn’t realize he hates it until he catches Link in the act. 

He’s standing in his bathroom, comb in hand, shirtless and only in his underwear, when Rhett barges in. Rhett stops and gapes. Link freezes and the comb drops into the sink, making a mess of brown spots all over the nice porcelain. Hand gripping the doorknob tightly, Rhett eyes the other man cautiously. He knew Link was self-conscious about the gray strands; he’s only in his late thirties, there shouldn’t be _any_ gray hairs coming through this fast, he complained once. 

Rhett came over because Link texted him _i wanna fuck you get over here_ and Rhett couldn’t deny him when he wanted it, too. So he grabbed his things, locked his door behind him, and got a cab. The door was unlocked when he arrived but he could hear Link moving around in the bathroom so Rhett barged in, ready and willing. The streak of gray he saw when he entered shocked him. It still shocks him. He didn’t know it was turning that much, that fast. 

“Rhett, don’t you knock?” Link huffs and Rhett pretends he doesn’t see the blush coloring Link’s cheeks. 

“When--_why_ are you covering it up?” Rhett finds himself asking. His breathing quickens and his arousal spikes. He didn’t know he had a _thing_ for the gray until now, in the face of it. The streak isn’t very wide. It starts at Link’s forehead and swoops back and under where it disappears in the rest of his hair. Rhett wants to touch the strands. 

“You know I don’t like the gray, man. And this bullshit,” Link gestures to the mirror where he’s looking at his reflection, “keeps getting _worse_.” He frowns at himself in the mirror. Rhett swallows hard. “I can handle a few strands but this is a _section_.”

“I--I like it like that, keep it, at least for tonight,” he rushes out. Link’s eyes meet his in the mirror. He smirks and runs a hand through his hair, shoving the wisps of gray out of his face, then turns to Rhett with a knowing glint in his eyes. Rhett surges forward, grabs Link by the back of the neck and crashes their mouths together. 

Rhett shoves him back against the bathroom counter, hand big on Link’s chest. “You really like it?” Link whispers. His hand drops to the button on Rhett’s jeans and fiddles with it until it slips out. The zipper is next. Link teases and drags the zipper down slow. Rhett rocks his hips forward, hinting at Link to touch him.

“Yeah, I like it.” Rhett grabs Link’s wrist and guides it to his crotch. Link cups him and squeezes just so until Rhett is groaning and rocking into his hand. “Can’t you tell?” 

Chuckling, Link jerks his hand away and quickly drops to his knees between Rhett and the counter. He works Rhett’s pants and underwear down past his hips, leaving them around his thighs. Rhett’s breath whooshes out of his chest when the cool air of the bathroom hits his aching cock. He’s so hard so fast it’s dizzying. 

Rhett wastes no time grabbing Link’s hair, fingers tangling in the mix of gray and brown, other hand resting on the edge of the counter, and tugging him forward. He lines his cock up with Link’s lips, and nudges until Link opens up and takes him in. Link rises up further, gets his hands anchored on Rhett’s hips so he has something to hold onto while he sucks Rhett down. The wet heat is perfect and Rhett can’t help the small thrust. 

Link moans as he sinks down, mouth stretching as wide as possible. He doesn’t stop until the head is bumping against the back of his throat. Rhett’s breathing has become ragged and quick, his hand has tightened around the edge of the countertop so tightly his knuckles are white. Link tries to swallow but can’t.

Rhett tangles his fingers tighter in Link’s hair, can’t help but admire the way the gray mingles with the brown. It’s fascinating to look at while his cock is down Link’s throat. Link relaxes a bit more, eyes scrunching at the corners, and his breath coming out through his nostrils in a rush. His hands are flexing around Rhett’s hips. 

“Can you take it?” Rhett asks. He hopes the answer is yes because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to hold back much longer. Link pinches a hip and grunts his approval. He breathes through his nose and out slowly, relaxing his throat so the head of Rhett’s cock is enveloped. Rhett feels like his lungs are going to explode; he’s forgotten how to breathe. He’s known for a long time, since they first met actually, that Link can take it, and he can take it good. He’s only gotten better as time has passed.

Gagging, Link sits back so he can breathe. Rhett whines at the loss, but it isn’t long before Link is flattening his tongue on the underside of his dick and sinking back down. He doesn’t go as far this time; Rhett sets out to change that. He grasps Link’s hair on the side of too rough and holds onto the counter for support as he thrusts into Link’s mouth. Link lets out a vibrating moan around him the further he goes. 

“You can do it, baby, come on,” Rhett soothes. Link flicks his eyes up to meet his. The blue is barely there, pupils blown wide with arousal. “_Fuck_,” Rhett whispers. The sight of Link, on his knees, eyes burning, with his mouth stretched wide and jaw muscles working is enough to make Rhett’s movements falter. 

The edge of the counter is digging into his hand painfully. He eases his grip and sucks in a breath. On the exhale he pushes in further. Link moans again, eyes closing, throat relaxing around Rhett’s cock. Rhett is going to explode, his chest is going to seize up so tightly any moment that he faints right then and there, all because Link gives fantastic blow jobs.

It only takes Link swallowing around him once for Rhett to fall onto his elbow, groan long and low and cum down Link’s throat. He holds his breath until his lungs burn from the effort, gasps when Link moans around him. Link takes most of it down easily, fingertips digging painfully into Rhett’s skin the entire time. 

Rhett loosens his hold on Link’s hair after a moment. Link pulls off with a lewd amount of spit and semen dribbling down his chin, grinning up at Rhett with a wild eyed expression on his face. Rhett has to lean on the bathroom counter to catch his breath while Link ducks around him and gets to his own feet. 

“You really like the gray streak huh?” Link whispers in his ear; his voice is rough and gravelly and the sound makes Rhett sigh. He’s standing so close Rhett can feel his erection pressed against his leg. “Like the way it looked, tangled in your fingers, while my mouth was on your cock?” Rhett nods furiously and Link laughs. 

Rhett steps back and grabs Link by the waist, nearly shoves him too hard against the edge of the counter so he’s facing the mirror with Rhett pressed along his backside. Link steadies himself with his hands on either side of the sink and Rhett mirrors him with his arms around Link’s and his hands resting on the countertop.

“You must like it, too,” Rhett murmurs against that spot behind Link’s ear. It’s a soft spot that always makes him laugh, but tonight he’s not laughing. He huffs and pushes his hips back, head dropping between his shoulders. Rhett grabs his chin and forces him to tilt his head back up and look in the mirror. “Look at yourself, Link. You’re filthy covered in spit and my cum, all because I like that streak in your hair.” 

Link pushes back again and again and Rhett’s dick gives an interested twitch. The other man smirks at him through the mirror. Rhett groans, hand dropping from his chin, and shoves Link’s underwear down and off until they’re being kicked across the floor. 

“You love it,” Link snickers. It’s a mean sound coming from him, one that makes Rhett growl and press him harder against the counter. “Don’t gotta be so rough, Rhett.” He’s smirking again. 

Rhett jerks him back until they’re back to chest and Rhett can get a hand around Link’s cock. Their reflection makes an obscene image staring back at them. Link flushed all over, chest heaving, eyes wild where he stares at Rhett. Rhett with one arm around Link’s shoulders, holding him against his chest, other hand wrapped around Link’s length. The head is slick and wet, and when Rhett squeezes and strokes his fist all the way up another drop spills over. It lands on his fingers, followed by another and another.

“Don’t tease,” Link moans. His breathing is ragged and short, coming out in puffs as Rhett strokes him slowly.

“Keep your eyes open, I want you t’watch.” 

Link’s gaze immediately drops to Rhett’s hand in the mirror. Rhett kisses his shoulder and a kiss turns to a bite, teeth sinking into tan skin as his hand moves faster. He soothes the spot with his tongue at the same time he twists his hand around the head of Link’s cock. Link shudders and his eyelids flutter, but he keeps them open and locked on Rhett’s hand. 

Rhett picks up the pace a bit. Link is a shivery and moaning mess pressed against him and his eyes are drooping more and more. He’s rolling his hips into Rhett’s hand in small thrusts, hands clenching around the arm Rhett has across his shoulders. He’s not going to last much longer. 

“I like the gray,” Rhett says directly in Link’s ear, “keep it.” 

Link tenses in Rhett’s hold, hands clenching too tight, and cums over Rhett’s fist and onto his belly. He lets loose a guttural moan, one that sounds like it’s being ripped from his chest. Rhett keeps stroking him until he’s finished and whining, thighs shaking and eyes scrunched closed. 

Link sags against Rhett’s body. Rhett catches him easily and turns him around so he’s leaning against the counter’s edge, boneless. Rhett reaches for a washcloth, wets it, then cleans him up. When he’s wiped the last little bit from Link’s chin he tosses the dirty cloth over his shoulder. Link is staring at him, a soft expression on his face, eyes droopy and sleepy.

“What?” Rhett asks just to break the silence. He puts his hands on either side of Link, gripping the counter too tight, waiting. Link opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but shuts it quickly and shakes his head. 

“Nothing.” He tries to push Rhett away but Rhett uses his weight to pin Link and kiss him until he is breathless. 

Maybe it’s the after glow from sex, or the arousal still stirring in his gut, but Rhett feels something shift, just for a moment, while they kiss. It’s a gentle feeling that starts in his toes and tingles in his fingertips, makes him kiss Link a little deeper, a little less demanding. He lets it take over for a few moments before remembering who he’s with. 

Wrenching back, Rhett pushes off from the sink and avoids Link’s face. On his way out the door with his clothes he thinks he hears something hit the floor and Link cursing. He flinches but doesn’t turn around. He gets dressed, grabs his things, and leaves.

The next morning at work, the gray streak is gone.


	5. the next day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is set after link gave rhett the blow job on his first day
> 
> thanks for all the love y'all!!!! this has been a lot of fun

Rhett didn’t think he would be going through a crisis at the tender age of twenty-eight. He made it through high school unscathed, college with barely a scratch, and law school didn’t phase him one bit. But this--_Link Neal_\--is sending him into overdrive. The guy is jittery and nervous, he’s a goody two shoes, he works hard and he can snark back with the best of them, and he knows how to give a fantastic blow job. He’s already becoming a problem.

Only a few hours have passed since Link dropped to his knees in the bathroom and made Rhett see stars, and Rhett can’t sleep. He’s so tired, his head hurts, and his gut is still churning. All he can see when he closes his eyes is Link’s mouth around his cock. It rips a groan from him every time and he has to force his eyes open, sleep pushed aside once more. He’s grateful his parents are deep sleepers otherwise he would feel bad that he’s keeping them up with his restlessness. 

By four a.m. Rhett hasn’t slept a wink; he’s due to get up in half an hour. Groaning, he snatches his phone up, stares at it, then tosses it down. It bounces off the mattress and onto the floor. The feeling in his gut won’t go away, even after jerking off to the image of Link on his knees. 

_This might be a problem_. 

Shaking his head furiously, Rhett rolls out of bed, determined he’s going to go ahead and start his day half an hour early. He will be productive today if only to keep his mind busy and away from blue eyes, shaggy hair, and long fingers. A shower will do him some good so he gathers up fresh clothes and heads for the bathroom. He hurries across the room, thinking about the cold floor under his feet and the softness of his clothes in his hands, and not the way Link’s mouth looked stretched around his cock or the way his jaw muscles ticked the further he took Rhett into his mouth. 

The shower is torture. Rhett thought the hot water pounding on his body would provide him some relief, but all it does is remind him of the wet heat of Link’s tongue and the way his fingers trailed over Rhett’s skin. He groans and leans against the shower wall, forehead pressed tightly into the tiles, hands in fists to brace himself. The tighter he squeezes his eyes shut the easier it is to imagine a dark head of hair bobbing on his dick and hands wrapped around his hips. 

“Shit, shit, _shit_.” Rhett hits the shower wall hard enough to hurt but not enough to bruise or make him bleed. He pushes off the wall, shoves his face under the spray, groans because even that isn’t helping. The tiles are a brief reprieve on the heated skin of his back when he leans, but the moment he closes his eyes and tries to breathe he sees Link’s face again. 

It’s easy to imagine the moment Link crowded Rhett against the door and fell to his knees. It’s even easier to imagine rough hands jerking his belt open, nimble fingers popping the button and unzipping his pants, before getting all of it down around his thighs. Before he realizes it, Rhett is half hard and moaning around a knuckle shoved in his mouth. If he keeps going like this, mind reeling with filthy images, then he’s going to have to jerk off a second time in just a few hours. He can’t get through work like this.

Taking a deep breath, Rhett gets back under the showerhead and quickly cleans his hair, washes himself, and shuts the water off. He’s done in a record amount of time and only thought about Link once so he considers it a win. The bathroom is steamy when he steps out of the shower, making it a little hard to breathe as he stands in front of the fogged up mirror. 

Rhett sighs deeply and swipes the mirror clean. He looks tired after a night of no sleep. He can’t remember the last time somebody got him this worked up to the point of restlessness. Maybe Amy when he was in high school and he had the biggest crush on her, but there’s been nobody since then that caught his attention this badly. Link Neal is not a special person. He’s a little bratty and tall, _normal_, and he’s got a magical mouth, but that’s it. 

Brushing his teeth proves to be helpful in clearing his mind. Rhett takes his time, then spits in the sink and moves on to his hair. It’s mundane but it gives him something to focus on that isn’t a mouth on his dick. He hums a song he doesn’t remember the name of and towel dries his hair, humming getting louder the longer he runs the towel through his hair. Rhett thinks long and hard about the process of drying your own hair, and doesn’t think about how Link’s dark locks felt tangled in his fingers.

Huffing, Rhett tosses the towel into the hamper. This is _stupid_. Link is _not_ that great. His mouth is amazing and his tongue is wicked, but he in general is _not great_. He’s the other half of the firm and in Rhett’s mind that makes him the enemy. He can tell that they will have a rivalry that just might outdo their father’s. 

“Don’t think about Link Neal,” Rhett whispers into the mirror. “Don’t think about his mouth, or his hands, or his tongue.” He thinks he sounds like an idiot talking to himself in the mirror, but he keeps up the mantra until the persistent erection between his legs lessens. 

*  
At work Rhett does his best to ignore Link at the cubicle across from his. All morning he keeps his head down and his eyes focused on his work. Every once in awhile Link gets up and walks past, sighing, and stepping a little too close for comfort. He tries to initiate a conversation at some point, but Rhett quickly spins his chair around and fiddles with something on his computer. 

During lunch Link finally gets Rhett cornered in the break room. No one else is around much to Rhett’s dismay. He drops his sandwich and rises from his seat to try and leave, but Link stops him with a hand on his chest. He pushes Rhett back until he’s cornered against the wall.

“You’ve been ignoring me, Rhett,” Link starts. “Why?”

Rhett swallows hard. He tries his best to push back but like last night, Link displays strength Rhett wouldn’t think he had. He keeps him there against the wall, hand burning through Rhett’s shirt, eyes intense.

“What do you mean?” Rhett feigns ignorance and Link rolls his eyes. 

“I sucked you off in the bathroom last night, Rhett. Don’t try to pretend you have forgotten.” Link drops his voice low. The sound makes Rhett’s skin crawl. 

Rhett vividly remembers last night, spent the entire night and most of the morning trying _not_ to think about it. His plan to keep himself busy and his mind Link free failed the first time Link walked by his cubicle sighing; it only served to remind him of the noises Link made. He’s been pushing back the images from last night for a couple of hours now and it’s slowly driving him mad. 

“I haven’t forgotten,” Rhett huffs. “Trust me, it’s all I thought about last night and this morning.” Link’s hand tightens in his shirt for a moment. 

Link’s grin spreads across his face slowly. He pats Rhett on the chest and drops his hand then straightens the wrinkles in the maroon button down. When he’s done he pats Rhett again, still grinning, and steps back. 

“Was it that good?” Link asks. Rhett thinks he detects a hint of unease in Link’s voice and sees his smile droop a little. He starts to back away even further, hands shoved into his pockets, a little more tense than he was earlier. 

Before Link can get away, Rhett grabs him by the belt and jerks him forward. Link stumbles and gasps and Rhett crowds _him_ against the wall this time. He hits the hard surface with a blush on his cheeks and grin gone. Link lips his lips, staring at Rhett’s face, and Rhett can’t help dropping his gaze to Link’s mouth. 

_That mouth was on your cock last night._ Rhett blinks rapidly and pushes the thought away before he embarrasses himself in the break room.

“I jerked off thinking about you last night,” Rhett admits quietly. He’s the one blushing now. Link laughs loudly, tension gone. Rhett wants to kiss him but he pushes the urge down and instead focuses on the way Link’s throat bobs when he laughs. It’s mesmerizing and sends a jolt of pleasure down his spine and straight to his cock. 

“I still don’t like you,” Link says as he pushes Rhett away. 

Rhett rolls his eyes, tamps down the arousal, and follows him across the room, _not_ watching his ass sway in those pants. Link steals his chips on the way by the table and Rhett groans, tossing a napkin at his head. He plops down in the chair he was in previously, listening to Link’s laugh as he leaves. 

“You owe me for the chips, Neal!” Rhett shouts. Tim comes in and joins him at the table, opening his own lunch. 

“Thought you hated the guy?” Tim asks as he takes a big bite of his sandwich. 

Rhett shrugs and continues his lunch. Tim eyes him curiously. 

“I do, but he’s not so bad I can’t tease him every now and then.” Rhett laughs and tries to hide his blush behind his napkin. 

Tim huffs, “If you say so, man. Don’t let him get to your head, Rhett. There’s too much at stake for you to get into it with someone you don’t like.”

Rhett tosses a crumb in Tim’s direction. 

“If you say so, _mom_.” 

Tim just laughs and Rhett tries not to think about Link. He despises the guy after all.


	6. text messages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one takes place leading up to the senior partner celebration (part 2 in nlt) where rhett is being a butt and ignoring link for days, so link starts sending all those videos/messages/voicemails
> 
> i really like this one. i kinda wanna kick rhett even though I'm the one that wrote them this way.

_Hey, you’ve reached Rhett. I’m not here so leave a message after the beep!_

Link jams his thumb on the end call button and dials again. The phone rings and rings and rings, eventually going to voicemail _again_. This makes the fifth time Link has tried to call just tonight, but Rhett won’t answer.

_Hey, you’ve reached Rhett. I’m not here so leave a messa--_

Frustrated, he ends the call for the umpteenth time and tosses his phone behind him, throws himself backwards on the couch. He doesn’t care where it lands. All he cares about right now is Rhett. The other man has been ignoring his calls for days. Link has sent him text after text, left voicemail after voicemail. That moment in the office, that _kiss_, it meant something. It had to mean something. _It had to_. 

Link knew there was something there between them. So when Rhett shoved him against his record collection, jealousy making his eyes turn to that stormy green-grey, Link wanted to cheer. He thought maybe this was _it_, this was the moment that Rhett finally got his shit together and realized that there _are_ feelings behind all the hate and loathing. 

He knew he was pushing it with Chris. It was a bold move inviting him back to his office, flirting on the way past Rhett’s open door, but Link wanted a reaction. He wanted Rhett to notice and to finally admit to what they were feeling, maybe do something for once in all these years. Link grabbing him by the chin and pulling him into a kiss that was anything but harsh and full of hate was supposed to be that moment. But Rhett jerked away and practically ran out of the office, disappearing into the elevators, a panicked look on his face.

To say Link was hurt is an understatement. He reached for Rhett, desperate for more contact, voice strangled when he said Rhett’s name. After Rhett left he sagged against the records, head in his hands, chest tight. He didn’t know what he did in the first place to deserve Rhett being so closed off the last few days; to be so standoffish and _mean_. He knows Chris is the reason Rhett came storming after them, but the attitude during the week has been unexplainable. Their hatred for each other has often lead to days of no talking, no interacting in any way, only to bring them right back together naked and desperate for it. This feels different. Something has shifted. 

_Was it me?_ Link wonders. It had to be him. 

As Link lies there staring at the ceiling, he starts to think about the last week. They were both working on that proposal, both of them tense as they worked. Rhett tried to knock him down a peg or two but it didn’t work. And then, only a couple of days later, his dad came to him with a handshake and a contract for senior partner. That had to be the start of it. Link getting the promotion before Rhett even though Rhett has been there longer must’ve been the match that lit the fire. 

Angry now, Link flies off the couch and to his feet. He begins to pace across his living room. This frustration is growing, making his chest ache and his hands clench at his sides. Rhett is being _unfair_. None of this is Link’s fault. He didn’t ask for the promotion; he was given the promotion, fair and square. 

Link snatches his phone up where it landed earlier. He checks it, knowing Rhett hasn’t called or answered or even bothered checking anything. If there’s one thing Link has learned about the other over the course of their relationship is that the man is _stubborn_. He’s strong willed and doesn’t back down easily, traits that make him such an amazing lawyer. But it makes things difficult for Link. 

The first text is open before Link knows what he’s doing. He types out a few expletives, _fuck you rhett_ among a few of them, then sends them all. He’s furiously typing out the next one, wondering why Rhett is being so mean, _what did i do?_ making his chest tight and unwanted tears spring to his eyes. He sends that one after hesitating for a moment. No, he won’t waver, Rhett deserves every word thrown at him tonight.

He needs a drink and he needs one badly. Phone still in hand, fingers flying over the keys, he hurries into the kitchen and gets out his favorite bottle of Scotch. A client gifted it to him after winning her a ton of money; it’s an expensive bottle, aged to perfection, and perfect for nights like these. Link doesn’t bother with a glass, doesn’t need one when he lives alone. He pops the top off and lets it fall to the floor, focus only on his phone. 

The anticipation that comes with sending each text nearly drives him mad. Link wants Rhett to respond, he wants that _read_ to pop up, even if it’s just one goddamn text, to put his mind at ease at least for tonight. He wants Rhett to say something, _anything_, at this point. The scotch feels good going down after each text. By the time he’s on the eight or ninth one--he’s lost track by now--he’s pleasantly buzzed. 

Link sighs heavily as he staggers into his room and drops onto the bed. The bottle lands on the nightstand safely. He stares at the screen of the phone, scowling at all the unread messages. Just as he’s opening up another message to send, a notification pops up. For a moment Link’s heart stutters in his chest, but then he sees it’s just Chris. He opens it and his breath _whooshes_ out too fast at the image. There are no words, just a picture, Chris standing in front of a mirror flexing, a towel slung low on his hips. 

This gives Link an idea. If Rhett won’t respond to words maybe he will respond to pictures, to _teasing_. It doesn’t take much self convincing to strip down naked and get in the center of the bed, phone by his side, and hands steady as he wraps one spit-slick palm around his cock. Link grabs the phone with his other hand and pulls up Chris’ photo, moaning softly at the sight. 

Link has always prided himself on his imagination. This makes it easy to close his eyes and see Chris there, kneeling on the bed with him, hand wrapped around Link’s and coaxing him to full hardness in tandem. It doesn’t take long before he’s hard in his hand and moaning into the quiet of the room. 

But the image of Chris on his knees in front of him changes fast. It’s Rhett--it’s always _Rhett_\--on his knees, on his stomach, on his back, _everywhere_. Link doesn’t have to struggle to conjure up an image he likes best to concentrate on, one coming to the forefront of his mind rapidly and without question. It was a night not too long ago: both of them sweaty and tangled, Rhett pissed about one thing or another, Link straddling his thighs, Rhett’s cock buried deep and Link clawing at his shoulders. He left marks that night and came so hard he saw stars.

Link hastily grabs his phone before this is finished after barely getting started. He’s no photographer but he manages to angle the camera just right and snap a picture to send. It’s not perfect but it gets the point across. He captions it _you’re missing out_ and hits send with no hesitation. He’s determined Rhett is going to talk to him.

After a few minutes, there's still no response. Frustrated and aroused Link snatches the phone back up and opens the video screen. Maybe _this_ will get a response out of him. Hand still around his cock, Link presses the record button and starts stroking himself, slow at first then getting faster the better it feels. His imagination gets the best of him again. It’s Rhett’s hand around his cock, Rhett’s mouth on his neck, Rhett’s fingers teasing along his inner thigh. 

Link moans and bucks his hips, tightening his grip around his length. The phone starts to shake in his other hand so he stops the recording and drops the device on the mattress, forgotten. He can send the video later. 

*  
On Saturday Link gets a little frisky. Rhett still hasn’t read any of Link’s attempts to get a rise out of him. By now he’s sent multiple texts, left many voicemails, and even drunkenly sent a few emails in the middle of the night. Frustration has turned to outrage at Rhett’s stubborn nature. He uses the frustration to spur him on well into the day, Scotch making him braver than usual. 

Before breakfast he gets up on his knees and angles the phone down his naked body. Between the Scotch and the orgasm he couldn’t function very well, barely made it under the sheets, and ended up falling asleep half in and half out of the blankets with his own cum drying on his stomach. He makes sure to twist his body in a way that shows off the spot, feels kind of filthy while doing it, but it’s satisfying when he sends it to Rhett. 

Later he invites Chris over; Link is already naked and half-hard, belly fluttering. Link wastes no time stripping the other man down to nothing and dragging him to the nearest surface. Chris shoves him down onto his back on the couch and Link automatically bends an arm behind his head to hold onto the arm rest. His nerves are tingling thinking about the snapshots he could get just from this, how much it would rile Rhett up if he saw Chris settling on his knees around Link’s thighs and putting his hands on Link’s hips. 

Link is itching to grab his phone and get a shot of this, but instead he waits. Chris grins up at him, eyes dark with lust, wetting his lips before licking a hot stripe up the underside of Link’s shaft. Link groans and raises his hips, begging for more. 

“Someone’s desperate this weekend,” Chris laughs. He wraps his lips around the head and tongues the slit, sucks lightly before letting Link go and pressing a kiss to his hip bone. “Boyfriend piss you off?” Link doesn’t have time to get mad before Chris is back and sucking him down, cheeks hollowed, tongue wet and perfect. 

Link huffs, “Fuck you,” and jerks, cock sliding deep into the other man’s throat. Chris takes it easily and moans loudly, showing off. 

_Rhett does it better_.

The thought is startling. Link gasps and pretends it is because Chris is swallowing around the head of his dick and not because the image of Rhett doing this flashes in his mind. Link grips the arm rest so tightly his knuckles hurt. He keeps thinking of Rhett: his amazing mouth and skilled tongue, his nimble fingers that know all the right places to touch; his entire body, huge and all encompassing dwarfing Link as Rhett fucks him. It’s enough to make Link stutter and gasp and release unexpectedly into Chris’ throat.

Chris coughs and sits back fast with a glare on his face. “Could’ve warned me, man,” he growls. Link heaves in a breath to try and calm his racing heart. 

“Shut up and cum on my face,” Link demands breathlessly. Smirking, Chris crawls over Link’s body until he’s sitting on Link’s torso, hard cock only a few inches away and within reach of Link’s mouth. But he doesn’t touch; instead he waits, hand dropping over the side of the couch and itching to grab his phone lying on the coffee table. 

Bracing himself over Link with a hand on the arm rest, Chris strokes himself furiously, eyes never leaving Link’s face. Link stares back, heated, lips parted and chest hitching as he struggles to catch his breath. Tensing, Chris moans long and low and hunches over, streaking Link’s chin and jaw with pearly white liquid. 

Link shoves him off when he’s finished. Chris snickers as he stands on shaky legs and disappears from the room. Now that he’s gone Link can snatch up his phone and open the camera. It will be a few minutes before Chris comes back, so Link takes his time staring at himself in the screen, considering how lewd he looks. Smirking, he tilts his chin back some to see the drops rolling across his jaw towards his neck. The image is _obscene_. After he’s taken the picture he swipes some of the cum off his face and takes another one, this time licking his fingers clean while he stares into the camera. 

This is _sure_ to get Rhett’s attention.

*  
On Sunday Link goes with Chris to lunch and then to the other man’s apartment. Chris wants to talk, to sit and watch a movie for awhile, but Link wants nothing more than to fuck around. He can’t stop thinking about Rhett and all the unread messages that have been sent. He lost count after awhile yesterday but this is the one that’s going to count, this is the one that’s going make Rhett read all those goddamn texts. 

In moments Link manages to convince Chris that they should just fuck and get it over with, he wants to go home and sleep before work tomorrow. Chris rolls his eyes but goes along with it and takes off Link’s clothes. Link isn’t as into the moment as he wants to be. He sits on his haunches on the bed and watches as Chris begins to strip.

Every piece of clothing that comes off reveals more and more skin, more muscles, more _everything_. But all Link can see is Rhett standing there jerking his shirt over his head, undoing his pants, slipping his hands below his boxer briefs. Link swallows and shakes his head, but it’s still Rhett standing there. 

“Get over here,” Link husks. If he’s going to keep seeing Rhett then he might as well lean into it and accept it. 

Chris waltzes over and crowds Link down onto the bed, hands shoving his shoulders into the mattress, legs spreading him open to make room for Chris’s size. Link closes his eyes, sees Rhett leaning over him. He yanks Chris down into a kiss, moaning loudly. 

Link thinks about Rhett the entire time. He thinks about strong hands manhandling him onto his hands and knees, those same hands kneading the muscles of his ass and thumbs spreading him open. He thinks about Rhett’s lubed fingers working him open, Rhett’s cock sliding into him slowly and with purpose, Rhett bottoming out in one final push, thighs strong against the backs of his own quaking ones. 

Link falls to his elbows and shoves his face into the mattress. He set this up for a reason, another video to send Rhett that was sure to drive him wild. But right now he can’t focus. All he can see and feel and hear in his mind is _Rhett_. For a moment his chest hitches and warm tears spring to his eyes. He swipes them away on the sheets and pushes up onto his hands, grabs his phone, and sets it up where he wants it. 

He puts on an amazing show, even if it’s only for a few seconds; he gets Chris’ filthy words being moaned in the background, Chris’ face, his own face when he cums and moans Rhett’s name right into the camera. 

By the end of it Link’s face is on fire where he has it buried in the sheets, hands white knuckled, chest heaving and cum drying on his skin. When Chris pulls out and flops onto the bed Link huffs, winces at the sting and grimacing at the warmth leaking out of his ass and between his legs. 

“Next time, just say you wanna screw with your boyfriend and I’ll do it,” Chris starts. A hand lands on the back of his thigh and Link flinches. He can’t move, _can’t think_, skin flushing with red hot shame and anger. “Don’t whip your phone out in the middle of it then moan his name while I’m fucking you,” he murmurs into the dip of Link’s back. He presses a kiss to the spot then rolls out of bed, leaving Link spread out and shaking. 

Link buries his face deeper and chokes back a sob. He heaves in a breath and sits up, wipes his eyes, and finds his clothes to leave. 

*  
When Link arrives home he immediately finds his bottle of Scotch and takes a long swig. It burns on the way down but he doesn’t care. He needs a shower, he needs the alcohol more. His apartment is eerily silent as he wanders around, bottle in one hand, phone in the other. 

He won’t wonder what it’s like to have someone else puttering around, a welcome and noticeable noise. Instead he drinks some more of the amber liquid and opens the video on his phone. He debates if he should really send it or not. 

_Rhett is an asshole, he pissed you off, he’s been ignoring you. Send the damn thing_. Link laughs at himself, hits the send option, and then finds Rhett’s name in his contacts. There’s a buzz settling in his chest and making his limbs heavy as he sinks onto a barstool in his kitchen. 

As usual here lately, the phone rings and rings before going to voicemail. After the beep Link sighs and starts talking. 

“Rhett, Rhett I miss youuu.”

Another drink and another sigh.

“Rhett, Rhett, Rhett. I like yer name Rhett. Rolls off m’tongue jus’right.”

Link lays his head on the countertop and puts the phone next to his mouth. The marble surface is a welcome coolness on his cheek.

“What’d I do, bo? Did I fuck it up?”

He can feel the sob working its way through his chest and up his throat. He sits up long enough to take another swallow of Scotch. 

“Rhett, don’hate me.”

This makes Link laugh. _Don’t hate me?_ All they have ever done is hate each other. The voicemail gives him a warning beep, he’s about to run out of time.

“M’sorry. I’m sorry, Rhett.” Link stifles his cry and rubs his nose over the sleeve of his shirt. Any other time he wouldn’t do this, he wouldn’t be so vulnerable and on the verge of crying helplessly. “I think I l--”

The voicemail beeps and cuts him off. Link sighs and ends the call. 

_I think I love you_.


	7. watching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i said the last one was my favorite but i think this one takes the cake. im in love with this one so much y'all.
> 
> its set after junior partner, but before senior partner. so just sometime between there, just a random one that kinda highlights rhett losing it a little bit.

Sometimes Rhett catches himself staring at Link. It usually happens during the work day while he’s taking his lunch in the partner break room and Link is fixing himself a cup of tea. He seems to never notice that Rhett is watching, but sometimes he tenses, rubs the back of his neck, then goes back to his drink.

Rhett likes to watch. He likes the way Link’s shirt stretches across his broad shoulders when he reaches for his favorite mug, likes the way his vest hugs his narrow waist and cinches at the back right in the dip as he stands there stirring his tea, _loves_ the way his suit pants fit so perfectly on his plump ass and hips while he’s bent down searching for one thing or another. It never fails to turn Rhett on and make him bite his lip to stifle a moan. Every time is different and each time never fails to make his chest seize up.

Today is no exception. Link is wearing a forest green suit. His shirt is maroon with a golden pattern on it, and his tie a simple black. It’s tailored to his exact measurements, something neither one of them could really afford until hitting junior partner. The outfit pairs perfectly with Link’s brunette locks and black and tan glasses. Rhett sits at the table in the corner, sushi forgotten as he watches, smirking. 

Link can’t quite reach his mug today. Someone rearranged the cabinets over the weekend and now all the mugs are on the highest shelf. Link is tall but apparently not tall enough to reach that top shelf. Rhett sighs quietly. He lets his gaze wander over Link’s body, raking in every dip and curve covered by fabric. The suit barely moves, doesn’t have much give as Link reaches. _A perfect fit_.

Biting his lip, he stretches his legs out in front of him and crosses them at the ankle. He leans back in the chair and doesn’t lose track of Link. Link huffs and drops to his feet. When he does the pants ride up a little, showing off his cheeks and Rhett has to clamp down on his lip tight. Link goes back up on his toes, arm stretched as far as it can reach, fingers almost there. Finally he gives up and spins around. Rhett jumps and clears his throat, hoping he wasn’t caught.

Link rolls his eyes. “Ya know, instead of staring at my ass you could help me get my mug down ya giant,” he says. He smirks but Rhett can see a slight blush creeping across his cheeks. 

“Mmm, I’d rather watch,” Rhett replies coolly. He settles back in the chair and threads his hands together in his lap, mostly to cover up the bulge that’s starting to show. Link sighs. 

Link grabs a chair and drags it over so he can stand on the seat. Now he can reach the mugs just fine, but his suit still tightens around his backside. Rhett groans out loud just to tease, and Link flips him off over his shoulder. He flicks his eyes down Link’s torso—_can’t wait to get my hands on that tiny waist_—then over the dip of his lower back and the curve of his bottom, all the way down to his shoes.

Hopping off the chair, mug in hand, Link walks across the room until he’s standing in front of Rhett. Rhett waits, lip hurting from how much he’s bitten it, eyes focused on the way Link’s fingers look grasping the mug. He swallows and shifts around in his seat, tries not to imagine those same fingers wrapped around his cock right now, where anyone could walk in and see.

Link sets the mug on the table and then he’s leaning, one hand braced on the edge of the table, other coming to rest on the back of Rhett’s chair. Rhett tilts his head back so he can look into Link’s face. The blue of his eyes is blinding this close and that freckle on his bottom lip is inviting, makes Rhett want to suck on it and run his tongue over it until Link is moaning his name. 

“Come over later,” Link starts, voice low and rumbling, “you can fuck me in this suit.” He presses a kiss to the corner of Rhett’s mouth. Rhett grabs him by the tie and yanks him closer so they can kiss properly. Link gasps into his mouth and clenches his hand around the back of the chair tight enough the plastic creaks.

Rhett sighs when Link breaks the kiss, smirk on his lips and a twinkle in his eye. He stands up straight and is about to walk off but Rhett grabs him by the waist and holds him steady. His hands are huge on Link’s waist. Link told him once that he loves the way Rhett’s hands can almost wrap all the way around and touch. But he especially loves how they hold him when he’s being fucked. 

“Or I could just take it off, piece by piece,” Rhett lets go and tugs the jacket back in place, “take my time,” he runs his hands down and around to Link’s ass, smooths out invisible wrinkles, “get you good’n’hard just from my touch alone.” Link whimpers and holds onto Rhett’s shoulders. His eyes have closed and his breathing is labored. He rocks his hips subtly. “And _then_ I’ll fuck you.” Rhett squeezes once then removes his hands from Link’s body.

Link jerks back, gasping. He wrenches his hands away from Rhett’s shoulders and steps back hastily, adjusts himself in his pants. Rhett laughs but does the same. He can’t wait for later. 

He takes the mug and hands it to Link. “Go fix your tea. And take your time, we’ve got half an hour before lunch is over.” 

Link laughs and does as he’s told.

*  
When later arrives Rhett is on edge. He’s been thinking about Link all afternoon, about his hands and his suit and his body; about getting him laid out and stripped bare and wrecking him until he can’t sit for a week. All of it is a bit overwhelming and has kept him from his work most of the afternoon. 

Link pops his head in just as Rhett is gathering up his things and finding his keys. He tells Rhett to hurry up, that suit is stifling and it needs to be taken off, please. Rhett normally would quip back, say anything to piss Link off, but he’s so ready to get his hands on the other man he can’t think of anything to say. Instead he hurries out of the office and locks the door behind them. 

The only people around are a few associates. They pay no mind to the two of them casually walking to the elevators, seemingly in a heated argument as usual, heads ducked close so they can’t be heard. It never fails to send a thrill through Rhett when they manage to fool the people around them into thinking they’re just arguing or pushing each other’s buttons. In reality Link is whispering all the filthy things he’s going to do to Rhett and vice versa.

The elevator ride involves Link being crowded against the wall, Rhett a solid weight holding him there, his own hands slipping below the waistband of Rhett’s suit pants and finding handfuls of ass. Things forgotten on the floor, Rhett groans and presses into him, hands on either side of Link’s head on the mirrored wall, face hidden in his neck. He stifles a moan into Link’s neck, open mouthed on his pulse point, breath hot and wet on his skin. 

“God you gotta nice ass,” Link groans and squeezes. Rhett bucks his hips, the move shoving Link further against the wall, the bulge in his pants pressing into Link’s. “Can’t wait to sink my teeth into it.” Rhett nips at the jut of his sharp jawline and Link hisses.

“Is that a promise?” Rhett asks quietly. He laughs when Link moans right in his ear and holds on tighter.

The elevator dings faster than anticipated and they separate. Link straightens his suit, gathers his things, and brushes past Rhett, the touch an electric shock to Rhett’s system. He follows Link out of the elevator with his own things and they silently walk to their cars. Rhett watches him go, can’t help it as he turns to walk backwards to his car. He grins when Link does the same and laughs loudly at the sight of Rhett mirroring him. 

“See you soon,” Rhett calls out.

If there’s a fluttering in his chest he ignores it and turns around to hurry to his car.

*  
Rhett arrives at Link’s apartment before Link. Leaning on the wall, he waits impatiently. They don’t share keys to apartments, never have in all these years, but just this once Rhett wishes he had a key. The anticipation of the night is killing him; it’s making his heart race and his hands sweat. 

_What’s wrong with you?_

Rhett doesn’t have time to think about the implications of how he’s feeling. Link is striding down the hallway towards him, keys in hand, sly smirk on his face at the sight of Rhett leaning on the wall by the door. He looks good, even after a long day of work. A grin stretches across his face when he reaches Rhett. 

“You lost?” Link asks as he unlocks his door and turns to Rhett. 

“Heard there was a hot piece of ass living in this apartment, thought I’d come check it out.” Rhett grins right back and Link sidles closer, hands coming to grasp the lapels of his suit. He yanks Rhett down to his level, kisses him, slips his tongue in Rhett’s mouth, bites at his bottom lip. Rhett towers over him and shoves him against the door, hands on his waist. 

They stand there for several moments just kissing. Rhett runs his hands up the back of Link’s jacket and back down, taking in every shift of muscle under his touch, every moan it elicits from Link. He can’t help pressing Link into the door further, overwhelming him with his height and his size. Rhett likes kissing Link, likes how plump his bottom lip is between his teeth, likes the softness of his mouth and the wet heat when he opens up. 

The feeling is _nice_. If he’s being honest with himself, Rhett could stand here kissing Link for a long time, maybe even the entire night if he was so inclined. It stirs something deep in his chest and makes him cradle Link’s cheeks in his hands and angle his head just right so they can kiss deeper, longer, Link’s breath hitching in his throat and Rhett’s heart seizing up and fingers tangling in Link’s hair. This is electric, it’s all consuming, it’s perfect and right where he wants to be for as long as Link will have him. 

_You can’t have him. He hates you._

Rhett jerks back first, struggling to catch his breath, hands still huge where they rest on Link’s cheeks and jaw. As he stares into Link’s hooded eyes, he idly rubs a thumb across Link’s bottom lip. The moment is charged with lust and a feeling Rhett doesn’t want to put a name to. Instead of thinking about that feeling too much he reaches around and twists the knob behind Link so the door flies open, arm coming to rest around Link’s waist so he doesn’t fall. 

Together they stumble into the dark and quiet apartment, Link dragging Rhett down into another hot kiss and Rhett kicking the door closed. He wastes no time backing Link across the room, not bothering with lights. He doesn’t need to see to navigate this apartment; he’s been here enough times to know which steps to take, which corners to turn, and the doors to go through, all with Link in tow and occupying his time. He should be concerned that he knows this place as well as his own, but he can’t be bothered to think about it right now. 

Rhett stops in the hallway long enough to kick off his shoes and socks. Link gets his hands underneath the shoulders of his suit jacket and slips it down his arms till it’s pooled on the floor in a heap. Moaning, Rhett shoves Link against the wall, lips latching on to his jaw then his neck then his throat, sucking blooming red marks into every inch of skin he can get his mouth on. He can feel the outline of Link’s cock on his hip where Link is pressed tightly to him, can feel his own straining against his pants. 

Panting and breathless, Link pushes him back and grabs his wrist to lead him down the hallway to the bedroom. Rhett jerks his tie off and works on the buttons of his shirt with his free hand while Link practically drags him through the door.

Once there, he finds himself being stripped, Link’s fingers slipping the rest of the buttons out quickly and yanking the fabric from his pants. Rhett shrugs it off and helps Link undo his pants, button popping easily and zipper catching before finally coming down. Rhett hisses as the pressure is relieved on his aching cock. In no time he’s got his pants off and standing before Link mostly naked, boxer briefs tented obscenely, the air conditioned room bringing relief to his overheated body. 

Rhett takes a moment to stare. Link is still fully clothed in his forest green suit. His hair is a mess and his lips are puffy, his glasses askew. He’s breathing rapidly, chest heaving with the effort. Rhett doesn’t think he’s ever looked more wrecked than now, and they haven’t even done anything yet. Link is a vision and Rhett wants to keep him here forever.

“Get me outta this suit,” Link commands and whips his glasses off, tossing them onto the nightstand with a clatter. The husk of his voice sends a shiver up Rhett’s spine. 

Rhett complies readily. Without thinking, without considering, he undoes the two buttons on the front of Link’s jacket and carefully peels it off one arm at a time. Link sighs as the jacket comes off. Next, he steps closer—close enough for Link to feel his erection—and pops open the first two buttons of his shirt. His tie loosens and Link slips it off and throws it across the room carelessly. Smiling softly, _genuine_, Rhett continues undoing the buttons of the patterned garment, makes sure to go slow and brush his fingertips along Link’s chest and abs as he goes.

Link drops his head back, breathy moan making his throat bob and his lips part. Rhett has to take a moment to kiss the dip in his throat, graze his teeth along sensitive and hot skin as he works the shirt out of Link’s pants. Once it’s opened and loose around his torso, Rhett can’t resist moving downward, mouthing at his sternum, his collarbone, a nipple, all the way across his ribs and abs. He doesn’t stop until he’s fully on his knees and running his tongue where pants meet waist. 

By now Link is heaving in breaths like he can’t get in enough air. His abs flex with every inhale and he’s begun sweating, beads of it slipping over his ribs, down his side and soaking into the waistband of his pants. Rhett laps it up like a man dying of thirst; he doesn’t care about the salty taste or how gross it may seem, he wants to taste as much as he can before they inevitably part late into the evening. The thought of parting, of _leaving_ Link, after a night of sex nearly drives him mad with need and that feeling he won’t name. His chest tightens as he releases the button and undoes the zipper over the prominent bulge tenting the material. 

Under any other circumstances Rhett would hurry this up, get Link naked and spread out, desperate and hungry for more. But tonight there’s a driving force that causes him to slow down, take his time peeling back the layers of the suit. He wants to expose every inch of skin he can in every way possible and drive Link mad. He wants to relish in the taste and smell and heat of Link’s body, take him to the edge, leap off of it _together_ and drown them both. 

A needling little thought worms its way into his mind: he could have Link like this all the time, in his bed, in his home, in his life in more ways than one. If he would just—

_No_. 

Rhett pushes the thought out of his mind and focuses instead on getting Link out of his pants. Link moans above him when Rhett grasps the waistband of both pants and underwear and jerks them down, exposing his cock to the cool air. Rhett licks his lips. He takes the pants and underwear all the way down and helps Link step out of both pairs, hands gentle around his ankles before smoothing back up and over the backs of his thighs. Link’s own hands fall to Rhett’s shoulders and head, fingers gripping too tight on both. 

For a moment Rhett lets his gaze travel; over the gentle curve of his thigh and the line of his cock, past the surprisingly defined muscles in his torso, and up to his face, blissed out and scrunched up in pleasure. Rhett hasn’t even touched him yet, hasn’t been touched himself, but he understands. He’s aching between his legs where his own erection is trapped in his briefs, a wet spot already forming where he’s resting against his hip. He wants to get a hand around himself, relieve some of the pressure maybe, but Link has his full attention tonight. 

Hands grasping Link’s thighs, Rhett licks a line from root to tip, lips closing over the head of Link’s cock and tongue catching the liquid beading at the slit. Link moans loudly and his fingers tangle in Rhett’s hair painfully. Rhett rises up further, urging him on, wanting that pain and that sting. It’s a reminder of what their relationship really is, what it _isn’t_, and he wants more of it until the only thing he can think about is how much he despises this man. 

Link jerks his hips when Rhett envelops him, hand wrapping around the base, tongue flat on the underside as he sinks. He keeps going until his lips touch his fingers. Link pants above him and hunches over, using the hand on Rhett’s shoulder to brace himself. 

“_Fuck_, Rhett.” 

Rhett hums as he pulls his mouth off and licks his lips, the taste of Link subtle but there. He wants more. He takes a breath and dives back in. Link is shuddering and gasping with every stroke of his hand and press of his tongue, moaning wantonly, hips twisting and jerking in Rhett’s grasp. Rhett digs his fingers into the back of Link’s thigh briefly before releasing and slipping lower, coming to rest around his balls, a steady pressure that causes Link’s knees to buckle.

“If you don’t hurry up,” he huffs, stops to breathe deep, “and fuck me, I’m gonna do it without you.” 

Rhett hollows his cheeks on the way off, laps up the last few drops of precum, and leans back, eyes drawn to the string of spit connecting them. He grins and wipes his mouth before standing. He staggers some, his own arousal making him dizzy. He’s aching and needs to be touched, but he knows if he is touched then he’ll lose it before he gets to fuck the other man. 

“Get on the bed,” Rhett rasps. Link quickly falls to the bed and scooches back until he’s settled with a pillow under his hips and his knees bent, hands grasping at the sheets while he waits. 

Rhett feels a little flutter in his chest. Link goes so willingly, so openly, never hesitates. For someone so bossy and confident, he takes direction from Rhett with ease. Even when one or both of them is angry or tense or fucking just to fuck, Link still shows no restraint or concern. It’s enough to turn Rhett on in the worst way, set his insides aflame at the trust Link has for him. It’s the same with Rhett. He doesn’t flinch in the face of Link, trusts him implicitly with his body and knows that the other man won’t bring him any harm. 

It’s the kind of thing Rhett doesn’t want to hope for in someone like Link. He’s afraid it will make that feeling he won’t name grow to impossible amounts and consume him. He doesn’t want to be broken.

_Do I?_

Rhett shakes the jitters away as he opens the nightstand and grabs the lube Link keeps there at all times. He strips out of his underwear on the way back to the bed. Link is waiting with a hand around his cock, stroking lightly and moaning, spreading the precum around with his fingertips on every downstroke. Rhett walks on his knees to Link and shoulders his way between his legs. 

Link huffs out a breath, hand speeding up on his length. Rhett doesn’t want to waste any time so he pops the cap on the bottle and slicks up his first and middle fingers. Link sighs at the first press of Rhett’s fingers on his hole. It’s a light touch that makes him shiver. Rhett smears the lube around before dipping his first finger past the tight ring of muscle. 

Cursing, Link twists his hips and Rhett sees his eyes close and scrunch around the corners. He pushes his finger further, works it around for a few seconds, then adds the second one. He hardly ever uses three because he knows how much Link likes the added sting and stretch when he finally sinks his cock into him. 

Rhett opens him up thoroughly and by the time he’s done Link is a panting and moaning mess, cock leaking onto his stomach, hands white knuckled in the sheets. He gets Link’s legs thrown over his shoulders and lines himself up, hand a welcome touch on his own arousal. He’s rock hard and aching and it probably won’t take much for him to lose it. 

Rhett sighs when he pushes the head in. He has to look, has to watch as Link stretches and opens up around him, taking him in inch by slow inch. Rhett grips a thigh and pushes the leg back further, nearly touching Link’s chest, leans with it so he can sink deeper. Link thrusts and a groan erupts that sounds like it’s being ripped from his chest. 

Link sucks in a breath, exhales, “Shit, shit, _shit_.” His hands are clenching and releasing in the bed sheets like he’s trying not to touch himself. Rhett stills for a moment before pulling back until just the head is still in then thrusts right back in, sending Link sliding on the bed and chest hitching. Rhett grabs onto his thighs for support as he keeps up the pace. 

Rhett gets lost in it. He loses himself in the feel of Link’s thighs quaking under his hands and his body, giving and unyielding, as he fucks into him. Link’s moans are addicting and the way his face screws up in pleasure every time Rhett bottoms out sends a thrill through his entire body. He’s still clenching the sheets, twisting them tightly, back arching off the bed in the most beautiful way.

_No, not beautiful._

Groaning in desperation, Rhett lets go of Link’s thighs and fall to his elbows, hovering over Link uncomfortably. But it’s enough. It pushes him deeper, gets him closer until they’re sharing air, Link’s cock trapped between them. Link cries out and his hands land on Rhett’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair, dragging him down into a hot kiss. Rhett thrusts harder, faster, hips stuttering, reeling at the sound of skin on skin contact. 

He’s close. He can feel it in the way his spine tingles and his balls tighten and his chest hitches. Link has stopped kissing him but he hasn’t moved. They’re so close Rhett can see every individual eyelash and wrinkle, every freckle and every pore. Link’s face is flushed a pretty pink and when he opens his eyes Rhett loses it at the unabashed lust and sincerity reflected back at him. 

Rhett groans long and low and stills with his hips flush against Link’s. He wants to keep looking at Link but he can’t, his eyes flutter closed as he releases inside the other man. Link whines and thrusts his hips to rut against Rhett’s belly then he’s following, whole body tensed and cock twitching between them. 

“_Shit_, Rhett, fuck, what--” Link swallows hard and groans when Rhett pulls out and rolls onto his back. “What was _that_?” he asks. He swallows again and this time Rhett watches his throat bob with the movement. He can’t help it: he leans over Link and presses an open mouthed kiss to the spot, feels it move under his lips when Link laughs. 

Rhett doesn’t think he can be honest with Link right now. He can’t voice the feeling with no name or how it makes his gut clench and his heart seize painfully. Instead he stays silent. Link eventually sighs and rolls off the bed, stands on shaky legs, and starts moving around the room. 

Blissed out and high on his orgasm, Rhett props up on his elbows and just watches. He loves to watch Link, after all. Link moves around the room with ease, picking up their clothes as he comes across them and tossing the pile into a heap by the door. He stops at his dresser and digs for clean underwear, idly humming under his breath as he searches. Once he’s found the pair he wants he closes the drawer and walks on light feet to the closet. 

Rhett noticed a long time ago that Link is detail oriented and often focus so intently on one task that he can’t do another until the first task is complete. This is one of those times. He’s focused on clothes and only clothes--doesn’t matter that there’s probably cum leaking out of his ass or that his skin is soaked with sweat--digging through his closet for Rhett doesn’t know what, but it takes him a couple of minutes searching to find what he’s looking for. When he emerges from the closet he’s holding a sweater and a simple white tee. 

“What are you doing?” Rhett murmurs. Link doesn’t answer. 

He waltzes into the master bathroom. Rhett can hear water running and then Link is back, wash cloth in hand. Rhett is drawn to his hands as he meticulously cleans himself off, making sure every bit of dried cum is gone before striding back to the bed. Long fingers fold the cloth to the clean side and Rhett is transfixed as those same fingers smooth the cloth over Rhett’s torso, softly wiping his skin clean. 

Rhett sighs deeply at the sensation of Link caring for him. It ignites a flame in his chest and threatens to swallow him whole. When Link tosses the sweater and a pair of underwear at him Rhett flinches. He stares at the garments in confusion. 

“Put them on, dumbass,” Link laughs and rolls his eyes. He jerks the white tee over his head and steps into the other pair of underwear smoothly. 

Rhett sits on the edge of the bed, heart stuttering in his chest, hands shaking around the clothes Link handed him. This is so far from what he’s used to, what _they_ are used to, that it freaks him out. Suddenly the air feels too stifling and his skin too tight. All thoughts from before have been replaced with a white hot fear of what this could mean and where this could go. 

He quickly dresses in the clothes Link gave him, searches for his suit pants so he can put them on, and leaves the room, Link on his heels. Link grabs the back of the sweater and jerks him to a stop, spinning him around. 

“Don’t, Rhett,” he whispers. 

The same fear is right there on Link’s face. It’s softer somehow and tinged with a hurt Rhett can’t figure out, but it’s there. He wrenches out of Link’s grasp, gathers his clothes on his way down the hall, and doesn’t stop until he’s shoving his feet in his shoes and getting his keys out of his pocket. Pulse racing, he flings the front door open but before he walks out he chances one more glance at Link.

But Link has gone, disappearing around the corner and into another room moments ago. 

_Fuck_.


	8. a month later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is set after the senior celebration, about a month later after they were done ignoring each other and came back together a lot rougher and meaner. 
> 
> this ended up being a lot more angsty than i wanted it to be. i just wanted some rough shower sex is that too much to ask?

Rhett doesn’t remember who gave in first. It could have been him, it could have been Link. For all he knows it was both of them at the same time. But after a month of avoiding each other somebody caved, a smart remark was made, and they found themselves in a hotel room clawing at each other in desperation. It was hot and it was intense and it nearly broke Rhett to pieces. He didn’t think he would recover from it, even after Link made sure to drive the point home that they loathe each other, nothing more. 

“_Never anything more_.” 

Since that night they have fought harder, fucked rougher, and been meaner than usual. Rhett has found himself on the receiving end of Link’s attitude more than once and Rhett has given just as much as he takes. Each time lands them in someone’s apartment or another hotel or the partner bathroom, anywhere they can get their hands on the other even for just a moment. They taunt, they tease, they rile each other up. 

But there are no _feelings_ in it. Rhett realized a long time ago that those things have no place in this kind of relationship. 

*  
Once Link gets the senior partner promotion he gets a pay raise. Rhett wasn’t _jealous_, he wasn’t, but it did sting a little knowing that Link of all people now had this to hold over his head. It meant that Link could taunt him with one more thing. 

He receives a text from Link at exactly one a.m. on a Saturday. Groggy, he snatches his phone off the bedside table and squints at the screen, groaning. The light is too bright in the otherwise dark room as he unlocks his phone and opens the message. Attached is a picture and only a few words. 

The shower is huge, even on the small screen of his phone. With its glass walls and black trim, elegant white tiles, and black and white patterned floor, the shower is _nice_. More than nice really. It has two shower heads and a bench along one wall, perfect for relaxing after a long day at work. Rhett isn’t jealous of this either, _he isn’t_. He stares at the picture for a few seconds before scrolling to read the text. 

_can’t wait to get you in here_

Rhett rolls his eyes at the cheesy line. His phone vibrates and another message pops up under the first. Intrigued, he rolls onto his back and pulls the device closer to his face. 

_i’ve been workin hard to get this new place ready_

Rhett audibly gulps. Where is Link going with this? 

_been a long night, think im gonna take a shower. wanna join?_

The next message that comes through is nothing but a picture. Breath catching, Rhett stares long and hard at Link’s form, at the defined muscles of his torso, the dark hair on his belly, the bulge tenting his underwear already. It isn’t unusual now for him to send filthy or teasing pictures, sometimes videos, after that torturous weekend when he wants to rile Rhett up. Before Rhett can control his breathing Link sends an address, apartment number, and a—code? 

_061978 3rd floor_

_come over im waiting_

Rhett doesn’t have to be told twice. He kicks the covers off and, cursing his lack of self control when it comes to Link, hurries to find his jeans and a t-shirt and get dressed. After shoving his phone in his pocket he jerks on some shoes, snatches his keys from by the front door and his wallet, and leaves. 

The address Link gives him is in a nice neighborhood, nicer than Rhett’s anyway, and flashy. It’s a parkside location in downtown L.A. Big brass numbers and letters reading _888 at Grand Hope Park_ decorate the front. Quickly he parks on the street and strides to the front door. He’s in a hurry to get to Link, but he doesn’t want to seem suspicious at nearly two in the morning. He casually buzzes in, takes a moment to glance around at the dimly lit lobby on his way to the elevator. The lobby itself is tasteful but expensive. 

Rhett’s phone buzzes on the ride to the third floor. 

_hurry up or i might start without you_

Rhett groans just thinking about it. Ever since they came back together his self control has been weak. He doesn’t _want_ to want Link, doesn’t want to give in to anything, but he can’t help it. That constant, nagging thought in the back of his mind that Link has been a distraction—_that’s why you didn’t get the promotion_—only spurs him on each time they meet up. He can feel himself slipping a little more each time, but he ignores it in favor of keeping Link around. If this is the only way he can have Link then he’ll be damned if he lets it go.

When the doors finally open Rhett is on edge. His hands are shaking as he grips his phone tightly and his pulse is racing already just thinking about Link waiting on him in the shower. He navigates the third floor until he finds Link’s new apartment. Coming up on the door he realizes fast he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to get in.

Link said nothing about a key or if the door will be unlocked when Rhett arrives. He stands in front of it, phone clutched in his hand, and stares at it for a moment. All he sees is a knob with no key hole and a—

“Key pad,” he mutters, rolling his eyes; of course Link would find a place fancy enough for keyless entry. The code Link sent makes more sense now. He pulls up the series of numbers and punches them in. The door beeps and a green light flashes, indicating the code worked.

Rhett turns the handle but suddenly has to stop. Link trusted him with the code to his brand new place. He confidently gave it out like it was nothing, and to Rhett of all people, the one he despises the most. A surge of emotion nearly staggers him as he stands there, hand gripping the knob so tight his hand starts to cramp. _Link trusts him_. He trusts Rhett to just show up to his apartment in the middle of the night, no questions asked, no worries or apprehensions. They trust each other for work, know that the other won’t let them fail purposely, but in their personal lives it’s still a heady rush. 

When did they get to this point? Rhett _hates_ Link and vice versa. This isn’t about feelings or wanting something more, it never has been. 

_Liar_. 

Shaking his head, Rhett opens the door and walks in. This isn’t the time or the place to think about his repressed issues. Not when he has a hopefully wet and soapy Link waiting on him. He closes the door, hears a beep that must mean it has locked behind him, and just stands there. The apartment is huge. Open plan, floor to ceiling windows that overlook downtown Los Angeles, and chic furniture that appeals to someone like Link Neal. Rhett whistles his appreciation before turning and making his way down the hallway, shoes getting kicked off along the way.

Rhett can hear the shower running before he finds the bathroom. At the sound of water and Link humming, he speeds up and locates the room, twists the knob, and flings the door open. Link must not hear him, but that’s _okay_ because Rhett has to take a moment to stare, knuckles white on the door handle. 

Link is standing under the tallest shower head, hands running through his wet hair, steam rising around his feet and fogging up the glass. He’s humming a nameless song with his eyes closed and his head tilted; his mouth is turned up in a smirk, something Rhett figured a long time ago was a permanent fixture on his face. Rhett swallows past a lump of arousal that feels like it’s choking him as he lets go of the handle and begins to strip. His shirt comes off first, followed by his pants and underwear. 

Normally Rhett would announce his presence, make it known that he’s there and ready, but tonight he’s on edge and wants nothing more than to surprise Link for once. He’s already half-hard, has been since Link sent that half naked picture. The thought urges him forward. Before he knows what he’s doing, Rhett slides the shower door open, steam billowing out and heating his skin, steps in, and immediately gets his hands on Link. Link’s eyes fly open and he jerks in surprise. 

He smiles at the realization it’s just Rhett, growls out, “About ti—”

Link doesn’t get to finish. Rhett has his hands on either side of Link’s neck, thumbs caressing along his cheeks, and then he’s kissing Link, hot and insistent and shoving him backwards into the wet shower wall. His back hits heavy on the tiles, Rhett flush against him with a thigh tucked between his legs, pressing insistently into his balls. Link groans and his hands land on Rhett’s waist, tugging him closer. Every point of contact sends a shiver of pleasure straight to his cock.

Rhett doesn’t think they can get much closer but Link proves him wrong with hands on his ass. He digs his fingers in and jerks Rhett forward until they’re pressed tightly to each other, wet skin to wet skin, cocks sliding together and making Rhett moan. He can’t breathe without feeling Link’s own chest heaving, can’t rock his hips without rutting against some part of Link. His skin is on fire everywhere they’re connected. 

The water pounding on his backside feels good, a blessed and momentary relief on his overheated skin as he holds Link’s neck—_gentle_—and presses kisses into his mouth, across his cheek, his jaw; he moves down his throat, laps up the water droplets he finds along the way, Link sighing beneath him. Rhett gives one final lick when he reaches Link’s collarbone before stepping back and dragging the other man with him. 

“That bench good for anything?” Rhett teases, mostly for a distraction so he can breathe. Link doesn’t answer.

Instead, with a wild eyed expression and lips parted, Link surges forward, hands already reaching, and manhandles Rhett until he’s seated on the tiled bench, legs splayed open in front of him obscenely. Link stands there staring, taking in Rhett, eyes hungry for more. Rhett understands fully.

Under any other circumstances, Rhett would find Link’s dry form the most appealing. Street clothes, work clothes, it doesn’t matter, the man is _sexy_ on any given day. But standing here in front of Rhett, water running down his naked skin, and cock standing at attention, he’s breathtaking. His hair is free from all product and swept back, his eyes are bright and lashes wet, his plush lips are parted. Rhett is transfixed, he doesn’t want to look at anything else ever. The intense emotion on his face doesn’t help Rhett’s cause either. 

_Does he…?_

Shaking his head and ridding himself of any intrusive thoughts, Rhett reaches a foot out and hooks it around Link’s ankle, tugging him forward the last couple of steps. Link stumbles and catches himself on a shoulder, eyes boring holes into Rhett’s face. Rhett can’t stand to look at him for too long lest he lose his mind, so he drags Link down into a persistent kiss, anything to get his mind off of other things.

Link falls easily into Rhett’s lap. One hand comes to rest on the wall by Rhett’s head and the other in his wet hair, fingers tangling on the edge of too tight and jerking his head back. He grins at Rhett and Rhett pushes his hips up. Moaning, Link sinks into another hot kiss, tongue teasing at Rhett’s lips until he opens up, nibbles at his bottom lip until Rhett is the one moaning. Rhett is vaguely aware that Link is reaching to the side, fumbling around for something. 

The steam from the water is stifling, and Rhett blames it for the tightness in his chest as Link rises up on his toes and hands Rhett a bottle of lube; Rhett gets the hint and pops the cap open, quickly squirting some onto Link’s waiting palm. He blames the steam on the hitch in his throat when Link smooths that hand down his chest—barely there—not stopping until he has wrapped a hand around Rhett’s cock. It’s the steam making his hands shake as they land on Link’s waist and the steam causing his lungs to constrict when Link rises up further, then back down and takes Rhett in inch by slow inch, free hand bracing on Rhett’s shoulder. His face scrunches and his thighs tense around Rhett’s waist but he doesn’t stop staring at Rhett. 

“_Link_, fuck, don’t—”

Link stops him with a gasping kiss, hips settling flush against Rhett’s lap, cock bumping into his stomach. They kiss and kiss some more, Link’s hands on his face now, Rhett’s own roaming over steam-slick skin, both of them struggling to breathe and press closer. After what feels like ages, Link shifts around, sighing, both hands coming to press on the tiles by Rhett’s shoulders so he can steady himself.

When Link presses their mouths together and slips his tongue in Rhett’s mouth, he shifts up, moaning, and back down. It’s a slow roll of his hips and it has Rhett tensing up and his hands flying to find purchase anywhere he can reach. He holds Link by the hips, waist, anywhere his fingers can grasp on wet skin to help Link move. The roll and rise of his pelvis is consistent as they kiss, Rhett barely able to move he’s so weighed down by the constant pressure around his dick. 

Not that he would _want_ to move. He likes the steady weight in his lap, likes the way Link is so wanton and ready for it, holding Rhett down with his body, increasing his pace everytime Rhett squeezes his hands. Rhett loves the feeling of Link clenching around his cock on the way down and the release on his way up, only to do it all over again. 

The steam continues to rise around them, keeping their skin slick and damp, but Rhett pays no notice. All he can focus on is Link riding his cock slow then harder, moaning loudly into Rhett’s mouth, not even kissing anymore. It’s Link panting against his lips, moaning breathily, huffing, sighing in pleasure every time he bottoms out. Rhett can’t take it anymore. He grips Link’s hips as tight as he can and thrusts up; the move sends Link bucking up and nearly falling off the bench. His thighs clench around Rhett’s body to hold him there. 

“Fuck, fuck, do that again, Rhett, _do it again_, please, _please_,” Link is babbling now. He drops a hand to Rhett’s head, fingertips grazing his scalp as he tilts Rhett’s head back and kisses him deep, other hand coming down to wrap loose around his length. His moan is louder, dampened by the sound of the still running water and the steam blanketing them as they fuck. 

Rhett does it again and again, thrusting up when Link drives his pelvis down, wet skin slapping against wet skin, driving Rhett wild. Pulse racing, he plants his feet harder on the slick floor of the shower so he can thrust faster, deeper. Link is pumping his fist over his own cock furiously and his eyes have closed tightly. The hand in Rhett’s hair is verging on too rough but Rhett doesn’t _care_, he wants to cum so badly he can taste it. 

Link groans suddenly and careens forward, pressing them even closer until they’re breathing the same steamy air. His lips find Rhett’s ear, ghosting over the curve of it.

“Can’t believe—” he pauses to groan and twist his hand in hair when Rhett thrusts again. “C-can’t believe, you haven’t fucked anybody else. Not in nine years, _Rhett_,” his words trail off in a moan, right in Rhett’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. 

They made an unspoken promise to never bring it up, never bring feelings back into this. But here Link is, bringing it back up, making Rhett’s heart constrict in his chest and his thrusts falter. That night in the hotel room surges to the forefront of his mind and he can’t think suddenly, can’t breathe. Link doesn’t stop moving or kissing his ear or tugging on his hair. He keeps going until they are both on the edge and breathless. 

“_Don’t_,” Rhett finally warns through clenched teeth. Of course he hasn’t fucked anybody else in nine years. Link has been the constant in his life, consuming every inch of him inside and out, taking him over agonizingly slow to the point that Rhett didn’t even realize until it was too late.

Something akin to a sob and a moan wrenches itself from Link’s throat, “_Why_?” 

Rhett avoids answering and instead gets a good grip on the underside of Link’s legs, tells him to hold on, and staggers onto his feet. He lets his momentum carry them to the glass wall where he presses Link’s backside to it, crowds him into it so he can hold on to trembling thighs and fuck into Link in earnest now. 

Link scrambles to get his arms around Rhett’s shoulders, fingers digging in painfully once he does. “You don’t wanna talk about it,” he gasps and twists his hips down, eyes fluttering closed when his cock slides against Rhett’s belly, “but I-I do, _Rhett, come on, harder_.” 

Rhett ignores Link in favor of working a hand between them and wrapping it around his dick.

“_You_ said never anything more,” Rhett thrusts so hard Link slides up the slick glass some. The hand on Link tightens and releases over and over, spreading around the precum beading excessively at the slit. He’s close. “So don’t come after me,” Rhett pauses long enough to shift his stance some, try to ease the cramp that’s starting in his legs, “when I don’t wanna talk.”

Link releases a stuttered and broken moan when Rhett twists his hand at the same time he ruts up. It sends Link over the edge between them, cock twitching as Link shoots in thick white spurts over Rhett’s hand and onto his own stomach. His back arches on the wall and his nails dig into strong shoulders as he shudders through it. 

Rhett isn’t far behind and chases Link’s orgasm with his own. The feeling of Link clenching and releasing around him sends him headlong into it, leaves him gasping for air against Link’s throat, hips stilling as he spills inside the other man. It’s white hot and blinding, racing up his spine and threatening to buckle his knees. 

When he’s finished, Rhett lets go of Link’s legs and helps him stand. His knees nearly give out but he steadies himself on Rhett’s waist. He’s silent, refusing to look at Rhett, so Rhett kisses him. The kiss is on the edge of too sweet and too gentle, too much feeling, enough of that _too much_ to have Rhett wrenching away after only a moment. 

Link huffs, “fuck you,” and pushes Rhett away. He shuts the now tepid water off and grabs a washcloth to clean himself up. Rhett leans forward on the glass wall, forehead pressed tight, eyes closed while he catches his breath and tries not to fall apart at the seams. A hand on his lower back makes him jump, the kiss between his shoulder blades has him reeling, a heavy and rough sigh breathed into his skin leaves him shuddering. 

“Link—” 

The hand on his back disappears and the lips between his shoulder blades press one more time before Link is stepping away and sliding open the glass door. 

“Get out,” Link whispers harshly. “_I hate you_, fuck, get out.” 

So Rhett does, without looking back.


	9. stormy green-grey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just a random one, definitely before the retreat and after senior partner. it's a very VERY VERY rare occasion of them maybe possibly being a little bit in love. or something. idk.
> 
> but to em, who constantly holds my hand writing about these dumb lawyer boys, I <3 you

There have been moments throughout the years where Link truly believed Rhett had feelings for him, was finally going to break, would _finally_ say what Link wants to hear most. He’s been fucked desperately, wantonly, angrily, has given as much in return; he has been bruised and bitten and left broken; but in between those spaces there have been seconds of unabashed honesty and sincerity in Rhett’s gaze. An emotion akin to love has been reflected back at him more times than he can count, soft kisses expressing more than words can say have been pressed into his skin, and gentle fingers have left searing trails even after the heat left. 

Rhett fucking _loves_ him, Link knows it, and he’s breaking down wall after wall every time it goes unsaid. 

Even now, standing at his open door, a drenched Rhett on the other side, there’s something in the way he looks at Link. But he doesn’t say anything, instead shrugs his shoulders and gestures to himself with a grin. “Got stuck in the rain on the way here,” he starts and steps inside when Link rolls his eyes. As if on cue a roll of thunder shakes the windows of the apartment. 

“They’re comin’ off anyway,” Link says and jerks Rhett by the elbow further into the room. Rhett laughs, wastes no time ridding himself of his sopping wet shoes and socks. 

It’s a struggle to get Rhett out of his soaked T-shirt, Link with his hands on the bottom hem and Rhett jerking it from the neck, but eventually they manage to work it over his wet skin. It catches on his arms first before finally being yanked all the way off and onto the floor. Link grimaces thinking about the wet spot it’s going to leave on his carpet. Rhett pushes into his space, jeans transferring wet to his pajamas, kisses him with cold lips on his jaw. 

“You’re dripping, get off,” Link complains and shoves at Rhett’s shoulder. Goosebumps have erupted over his clammy skin. He continues his assault on Link’s jaw, arms wrapping around his back, jeans soaking through to his bottoms. “Rhett!” He huffs around a laugh and Rhett presses closer, grinds his hips into Link’s to get him as wet as possible, laughing as he trails his cold lips across Link’s jaw and to his mouth. 

“Take ‘em off and you won’t get wet,” Rhett pulls back enough to grin. 

And _there_, there it is. Link sees it when he leans back far enough to look at Rhett. He’s smiling genuine, mop of hair falling over his forehead making him softer, younger. The way his mouth curls up at the corners and his hands flex on Link’s back and his eyes shine, it all resembles a man in love, but Link can’t dwell on it for too long. He can’t spend another night wondering and getting lost in it only to wake up in the morning with an empty bed and Rhett gone.

Rhett removes his hands from Link’s back and grabs the waistband of his pajama pants. Link gets his own hands to work, fingers shaky as he undoes the button and zipper over the bulge there, knuckles brushing naked skin and making Rhett hiss. Link himself is surprised to find no underwear tonight; he must’ve really been desperate for it if he came to Link like this. Rhett has Link’s bottoms bunched in his hands, not moving, breathing labored as Link works the wet denim over sensitive skin and down rain slick hips. 

“You that desperate?” Link asks, reaching a hand in to pull Rhett’s cock out. He gives it a slow stroke, not caring that his hand is too dry; Rhett’s head falls to his shoulder anyway and his breath is hot in the crook of Link’s neck. Rhett nods and lets go of the material in his hands so he can hold Link around the waist, nearly touching his fingertips because his hands are so big. “Coming here with no underwear on, risking the rain and the storm, because you wanna fuck?” 

Link feels a swell of emotion at his own words, but quickly tamps it down and uses his free hand to get Rhett’s jeans the rest of the way off. It’s difficult but when the pants finally fall to the floor Rhett steps out of them and shoves them away, presses close, hands coming back to Link’s pants and shoving them off, too. He hooks his fingers in Link’s underwear, breathing deep, exhaling right into a kiss. 

Another rumble of thunder shakes the windows and seems to spur Rhett on. He jerks Link’s underwear off in one quick motion then his shirt, comes back for another kiss as his hands wander, only stopping when they reach Link’s thighs and hoist him up. The only option is for Link to hop a little and wrap his legs around Rhett’s waist, lips not leaving his, hands strong as Rhett uses the momentum to walk them down the hall. 

It should terrify Link that Rhett knows his way around so well. He could walk in and find his way to any room of this place, whether he’s blindfolded, eyes closed, blind, bound, it doesn’t matter. Rhett has made a home here unintentionally or not, and Link secretly loves it. He wants it to be a normal thing, wants Rhett to barge in whenever he wants, with a key or without, whatever he wants. The idea of it is all consuming and has him kissing Rhett deeper, holding him closer, tightening his legs around him even more. 

Link’s back hits the wall, only a few feet from the bedroom, but Rhett is desperate tonight. He rolls his hips up, cock smearing wet on Link’s hip, moaning long and low into his throat. “Fuck, _Link_,” he grumbles and the sound of it rumbles in Link’s chest, deep and vibrating, setting his nerves on fire. He could stay right here, Rhett’s weight holding him against the wall, lips trailing over his neck. 

Link tangles his hands in Rhett’s wet curls and holds him close, makes sure Rhett keeps his mouth where it’s at. He moans when a tongue licks a hot stripe from his clavicle to his shoulder. A kiss is planted there followed by teeth sinking in and Link jerks his hips, Rhett sighing when their cocks slide together. He lifts his head and Link is struck suddenly by how wrecked he looks, how hooded his eyes are, the way his mouth hangs open as he breathes heavily. 

Rhett’s looking at Link like he is a man starved. Like he’s too far gone to come back to the real world unless he has Link as his tether, leading him back to where he’s supposed to be. It’s startling and it leaves him breathless, the air punched out of him too fast, sending him careening forward and shoving Rhett back so they can kiss and make their way to the bedroom. 

The bedroom is illuminated by lightning and Link is tossed on the bed, Rhett crawling over him on his knees, bracketing his body with his own gigantic frame. He slips his hands under Link’s arms and hauls him further across the bed until they’re both in the middle, his head nearly hanging off the edge, but he doesn’t care. Rhett dips his head and starts a trail of hot kisses from neck to collarbone, from chest to nipple, sternum to belly button. 

Rhett starts it all over again, working his way back up, spit wetting Link’s skin everywhere he touches. Link folds his hands behind Rhett’s neck for purchase, eyes closing tight against the fire burning away his insides as Rhett continues the assault on his torso. He rocks into the touches and tries to raise his hips, get some point of contact on his cock, but Rhett sits on him and pins his lower half down, just shy of where Link wants him the most.

Suddenly Rhett stops, chest heaving, and raises up on his elbows to stare at Link. This close Link can’t help but take in the features he’s come to love--_no, not love, hate_\--over the years. His forehead is wrinkling like he’s thinking too hard, soft lines that have formed from years of concentrating on difficult cases and arguing with each other. His nose scrunches when Link exhales too fast and Link feels his chest seize a little. His eyes, which are normally a pretty green, have shifted to a stormy green-grey, much like the clouds outside, and Link has to look away. The sincerity in Rhett’s gaze is sobering and has him closing his eyes against the onslaught of emotions.

Rhett shifts downward, mood tense all of a sudden. Link grabs onto his hair as he goes, tongue marking a dangerous trail all the way to his hipbone where Rhett bites and nibbles at the skin. Link twists his hips and tugs on the hair in his hands, urging Rhett to move just a couple of inches to the right. He pauses and soothes the blooming red mark left on his hip, then he’s moving and Link sighs happily.

“Look at you,” Rhett murmurs and drags his tongue from root to tip hard, pressing Link’s cock flat into his belly and smearing precum on his skin. Link moans and tightens his fingers. “So ready for me. Didn’t even question why I wanted you tonight in the first place.” He sucks the head between his lips and tongues the slit, lapping up the liquid beading there with every pulse of arousal. He stays there for a minute, driving Link crazy with lips and tongue. 

When Rhett stops and lays his cheek on Link’s hip, fingers tracing lazy patterns across his ribs, eyes dark as they stare up at him, mouth open like he’s going to speak, Link thinks this might be it. This might be when Rhett finally spills the beans and confesses everything Link wants to hear. He believes it to be so when Rhett smiles at him for the briefest moment and kisses his hip.

But then he’s moving again and grasping Link’s cock in one hand, sucking him down in one swift move until he’s touching his own hand, the other reaching to fondle his balls. Link sighs and tries not to be disappointed; instead focuses on the wet heat of Rhett’s mouth and the flattening of his tongue on the vein along the underside of Link’s shaft and the fingers teasing under his sac. Everything is all consuming and hot and he’s so hard he might combust before Rhett even fucks him.

Rhett gives his dick one final suck on the way off, tongues around the head again, then pulls away with a string of spit and precum connecting them. It’s lewd and Rhett is grinning with shiny lips and a wet beard as he presses a kiss to the base, then further down around his balls and not stopping until the tip of his tongue is dipping past his hole. Link gasps and has to close his eyes and rolls his hips to take him deeper but Rhett pins him down again with an arm over his waist. 

The storm rages outside but Link is too keyed up and unfocused in here to listen or care. Rhett’s tongue is plunging deeper with each sweep and he’s got his hands back in Rhett’s damp hair, tugging and pulling every time that tongue pushes in and pulls out, only to start over and drive him closer to the edge. He wraps his legs around Rhett’s shoulders, digs his heels into the shifting muscles of Rhett’s back, opens himself up to take more, to get that much closer to the end. He can feel it hovering there, in the way his stomach tightens when Rhett presses his tongue in to his prostate persistently, in the way his toes curl on Rhett’s back. 

But Link doesn’t want to cum right now. He wants Rhett to fuck him until he can’t walk straight for a week, wreck him and make him forget about any feelings he may or may not have for this stupid man between his thighs. So he taps Rhett on the head and Rhett sits back, wiping his mouth on his arm, eyes burning holes through Link. 

“Fuck me, Rhett, come on,” Link murmurs and uses his heels to dig into Rhett’s ass. He’s reaching for Rhett, maybe for comfort, maybe because his hands need something to do, but whatever it is doesn’t matter because Rhett is scooting back and pulling Link’s legs from around his waist. 

Rhett sighs, quickly sweeping his eyes over Link’s body, says, “On your hands and knees.” Link grins at him and flips over onto his stomach then pushes up on all fours, head dropping between his shoulders to breathe. “_Fuck_, look at you,” he says for the second time tonight. His voice is gruff and low and it sends a jolt of pleasure straight to Link’s cock hanging heavy between his thighs. 

Link shudders when Rhett’s palms smooth over his ass and thumbs spread him open. He pushes his hips backs, seeking more, and he gets it when that tongue is back for a brief moment. Link shudders and moans and spreads his legs open some more. But Rhett is only there briefly and then he’s up on his knees and Link can hear him spitting into the palm of his hand. He has to glance over his shoulder, and sees Rhett with his eyes closed as his own hand moves over his cock, slicking it up with spit. 

Those thumbs are back, spreading him open, and in a move that must mean Rhett’s really truly desperate for it tonight, Rhett spits right on his hole and uses a thumb to spread it in and around. Link releases a strangled gasp, head dropping, panting as he struggles to breathe. Then Rhett is there, lining himself up and pushing the head in slowly, Link dropping to his elbows on a deep moan. His hands rest on Link’s hips and he uses them as leverage to thrust into Link shallowly, with purpose, going slow. Link has to grip the sheets tightly and shove his forehead into the mattress to brace himself. 

Finally, _finally_, Rhett is all the way in, flush with Link’s ass, hands gripping too tight on his hips. He huffs when he bottoms out and Link bunches up the sheets in his hands, bites down on his knuckles to stop the loud moan working its way through his chest. Rhett is still above him and breathing hard, and Link can feel it again, in the way strong thighs are trembling against his, the way fingers are drumming out a staccato rhythm on hips. There’s a fluttering in Link’s belly and seizing in his chest, but he holds it in and instead pushes his hips back for more.

Rhett gives an experimental thrust and Link lets loose the moan. He bites down harder at the end of it and flexes his hands in the sheets. Then suddenly Rhett is leaning, whole body dwarfing Link’s, arm coming around his waist, other hand bracing himself on the bed by Link’s head. A kiss lands between his shoulder blades, “You good?” murmured into his skin. Eyes shut tight and panting into the mattress, he nods after a second of silence. “Sit up, get off your elbows.” Link goes readily and the move slides Rhett’s cock deeper.

Link is overwhelmed. He can’t breathe it’s so good having Rhett’s weight on his back and Rhett’s cock buried in his ass. His arm around Link’s waist is a steady comfort, tells him Rhett won’t let him fall, while the shallow thrusting threatens to send him off the edge. Head drooping, he pushes his hips back and urges Rhett on, “Move, _go_.” 

Growling, Rhett tightens his hold around Link’s body and pulls back just enough that he can slam back in in one swift thrust. Link hitches forward on the bed, lungs constricting, hands scrabbling for more to hold onto. Rhett does it again and this time Link sees his hand creeping over, coming closer to Link’s as he adjusts to do it again. Fingers brush his and it sends a jolt through his entire body. Hot breath ghosts over the back of his neck, right on his most sensitive spot that drives him wild, and he gets another thrust. 

“Rhett, fuck, _harder_, _please_,” he whines. A blush spreads across his face at the sound of his own voice, rough and unused, thick with lust. It must affect Rhett, too, because he groans and drops his forehead to Link’s shoulder and moves faster, harder, exactly how Link wants it. 

Rhett doesn’t hold back, but Link doesn’t want him to. He wants to be ravaged and used, fucked within an inch of his life, anything to make the fire in his chest go away. It doesn’t help that Rhett’s hand has inched closer every time he moves and is now nearly on top of Link’s, dangerously close but not close enough. Rhett has started up a litany of curses and exhalations, every single one right into the back of his neck or his shoulder or his hair. 

It’s a particularly rough thrust that has Rhett’s hand finally finding Link’s. He squeezes too tight and Link winces at the pain that shoots through his fingers. He wouldn’t have it any other way, as long as it gets Rhett right there, close and nearly begging for it, hips stuttering the closer to the edge he gets. 

“_Baby_, Link, m’close,” Rhett mutters. Link doesn’t feel a twinge at the pet name, he doesn’t. They’ve called each other baby in the heat of the moment many times, but tonight feels different. He won’t dwell on it. “I want you to cum first, Link.” Rhett whispers it in his ear, breath hot on the curve of it, _something_ in his voice that Link can’t name. “Touch yourself.” 

Link almost sobs at the command and when he wraps a hand around his cock he jerks his hips and curses himself for being so wrapped up in Rhett that he didn’t notice how close he was getting, or how wet he is. He gasps as he works his hand furiously, gathering up the wetness at the tip and spreading it around with every downstroke, twitching in his own hand. Rhett moans into his shoulder and the arm around his waist is gone, hand joining Link’s on his length, working with him in tandem. 

“Come on, Link, you can do it, cum on our hands,” Rhett squeezes Link’s hand tighter where they are connected on the bed and moves faster, hips and hand both pushing Link to the precipice. One more twist, one more thrust, and he’ll be there. But then Rhett surprises him, must be drunk on lust and sex when he says it, “Do you know how bad I want you?” and Link drops heavy to the bed, landing on his forearms.

“_Tell me_, _tell me_, _please_,” Link sobs and his hand stills, letting Rhett do all the work now. He’s too far gone to finish himself. Rhett’s breath hitches and his hand speeds up on Link’s cock.

“I wanna fuck you every night, in this bed,” Rhett starts. He’s leaning close to Link’s ear, engulfing his entire body to reach, fingers tangled in his squeezing on the verge of too tight. “Fuck, Link, I want to--” he stops and buries his face in Link’s neck.

“What?” Link questions on a moan. He’s _so close_. Rhett snaps his hips harder. “Don’t stop, keep talkin’.”

This time Rhett is the one who sobs and moans, hand slowing to a teasing stroke, hips rolling torturously and pushing Link even closer. _Almost_. 

“I can’t,” Rhett groans, long and low, pushing deeper and harder. 

Link’s orgasm hits him hard enough to leave him gasping into the sheets. The hand on his cock strokes him through it and Rhett is still talking, repeating the phrase over and over, “I can’t, Link, I can’t.” Wave after wave of pleasure takes over his entire body as he pulses thick and hot over Rhett’s hand and on the bed beneath him. “Fuck, Link, _I can’t_.” He strokes Link one more time, squeezing on the way up, cock twitching out a weak dribble on his fingers. 

Rhett follows with one more moan and thrust and teeth sinking into Link’s shoulder. He’s flush against Link’s ass, spilling deep, Link barely holding himself up. When he’s finished Link collapses onto the mattress, face buried, not caring that he’s fallen in his own mess. Rhett slips out carefully and rolls onto his side.

The bed dips after a couple of silent minutes, both of them breathing hard, Link hiding the hot tears threatening to embarrass him. A palm smooths down his backside, over the bumps of his spine, the swell of his ass, and two fingers dip inside, pushing the mess leaking out back in. Rhett groans into his shoulder and Link knows he’s drunk with it, without a doubt, doesn’t realize he’s making it worse. Then he’s moving away and for a second Link is grateful, it gives him the chance to wipe his face on the sheets before he’s on his hands and knees and crawling to Rhett. 

“Rhett,” he says. Rhett isn’t off the bed yet, has both legs over the edge and is sitting up on the side, back muscles shifting with every breath he takes in an attempt to control it. Link reaches out with both hands and grabs Rhett by the shoulders to pull him back down on the bed. “Don’t leave, _please_. It’s still storming, you should wait it out.” 

The storm is a weak excuse, Link knows it and Rhett knows it, but Rhett nods anyway and turns on his side to face Link. He stares at Rhett, at the planes of his face in the lowlight of the room, the sex-drunk grin stretching across his mouth. Link hates him, for just a moment. 

Rhett leans over and kisses him and Link latches on like an octopus. His legs wrap around Rhett’s waist and his arms around sweaty shoulders to hold Rhett close, never let him go. He doesn’t _want_ to want more, he doesn’t want Rhett to want more, but he can’t help it. Like Rhett, Link is drunk. 

And it’s moments like these, when Rhett relaxes into him and holds him back, that Link lets his mind wander for just a second, stops to think that maybe _this_ will be it. But it isn’t.

The storm continues and Rhett stays, for just a little while.


	10. barbara and jade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look this one ain't that great, i'm just gonna say it. but i had to have these two adopting a dog or two okay. definitely set AFTER the final chapter of NLT.

The farmer’s market is busy today. Link has to hold his bags in front of his chest to keep from bumping into anybody as he makes his way through the crowd to the park only a few feet away. He was shopping for Rhett’s birthday, looking for something made out of wood at the craft table because that’s what Rhett likes. But while he was mulling over his options and chatting with the table owner, he heard a child begging her mom to go see the dogs. 

Interest immediately piqued, Link paid for what he thought Rhett would like the most and asked about the dogs. 

“Local shelter is holding an adoption event. They do it at every farmer’s market in the area two Saturdays a month,” the craft guy told him. 

Link thanked him and left, and found himself shuffling through a bunch of adults and children alike. He could hear the dogs barking loudly before reaching the park. What is he _doing_? A dog is not something he should be considering, or even looking at, but he’s still steadily moving towards the park. 

The are is set up with brightly colored tents, playpens, and a multitude of signs advertising dog adoption. Link stops at one of them, _Adopt your best friend today!_, and stares at the picture of the group of dogs playing with toys. He feels a surge of affection, has to tamp it down before he can go any further. 

When he reaches the first playpen Link is drawn straight to a white fluff ball with pink bows. She’s running circles around the other dogs, barking loudly, demanding attention from the passersby. Link stoops down by the pen and reaches his hand in. The other dogs ignore him but the white one leaps right for his hand, licking it profusely.

_Oh no_.

Link pats her head and rubs behind her ears. He knows without a doubt that this is a dog for Rhett. If he were here he would be plucking the dog from the pen with no hesitation and begging to adopt her. Link sighs as he continues to pet her.

“That’s Barbara.”

Link jerks in surprise. A volunteer has come to stand by him, smiling as she watches Barbara lick his hand. He regards the dog carefully, knows exactly how much Rhett’s face would light up at the sight of her, the way his cheeks would puff up in his excitement, and without hesitation, turns to ask, “What do I do?”

*  
Within two hours Link has done two stupid things: went to a dog adoption event and adopted the first dog he laid eyes on. He can’t help but berate himself as he struggles to carry all the new dog toys, treats, and food he bought, hold her leash, and unlock the door. She’s yipping at his feet in excitement and he has to stop and smile. Rhett’s going to _love_ this.

Link gets the door open with a huff and a puff, Barbara nearly knocking him over in her haste to get inside and explore. He drops the things by the door to relieve his arms; he’ll deal with it all later. For now he has things to do before Rhett gets home, which should be soon. Link leans against the door after setting everything down and watches Barbara. She’s snuffling around, sticking her nose in every corner and crevice of the living room and kitchen.

“Barbara,” Link says softly and bends down to wiggle his fingers. She runs over with her tail wagging and tongue hanging out. “How am I gonna explain this?” Barbara ignores him in favor of digging into one of the bags from the pet store. Link grabs it and begins taking everything out to sort and hide before Rhett arrives. 

Link manages to hide the food after giving Barbara some lunch, wrangle the bag of toys and bed into the hall closet, and take Barbara out for a quick potty break. He has exactly ten minutes left before Rhett is due home so he ushers the dog into the bedroom with the last pet store bag. Barbara fights the cute little bandanna with Happy Birthday written on it and confetti scattered in multiple colors, but eventually Link gets it on her and adjusts it to where the words are visible enough. 

Five minutes. Link suddenly feels anxious about this. Neither one of them have ever mentioned getting a dog together, not once in their three years of being with each other, the last year being engaged. He’s heard Rhett talk about the dog he had growing up and Link told him the story of Tucker, but that’s as far as the conversation went. Neither of them ever showed any interest in getting a dog with their work schedules, yet here he is, hiding with a dog in the bedroom because he knew Rhett would fall in love. 

What if Rhett doesn’t want her? What is Link going to do then? He can’t take her back, that’s heartless and cruel, but he can’t force Rhett to like her or want her. Did he screw this up? 

_Stop_. Link shakes the jitters out and Barbara licks his chin. Who is he kidding, Rhett is going to love this dog. He grins at her and gets another lick. 

“Link?”

Link jumps at the sound of Rhett’s voice. He didn’t hear the door open or Rhett walk in. He gathers up Barbara and pushes her mouth away from his, is about to walk of the bedroom to shout “Happy birthday!” when he hears Rhett muttering something under his breath. 

“He’s not here, great, _come on_,” he’s saying. Frowning, Link presses his ear to the door and listens harder. “Don’t argue with me, just come on. I’ve gotta hide you before he gets home!” 

_What. the. Fuck?_

Link is about to barge out of the bedroom, Barbara in tow, nervous about what he might find, but Rhett continues talking to his mystery guest. 

“Don’t look at me like that. This was a _crazy_ idea, why did I think this would be a good idea?!” Whoever Rhett is talking to is silent. “This is so stupid, Link’s gonna kill me! No, no, don’t give me the _eyes_!” 

Link feels his chest constrict. He tightens his hold around the dog under his arm and flings the door open, nearly running out of the bedroom, and goes to find Rhett. He’s already got his mouth open, ready to accuse Rhett of _something_, but he stops dead in his tracks and so does Rhett.

“Rhett--”

Link freezes in the middle of the hallway, eyes going wide at the sight before him. Spluttering, he gestures towards Rhett, confused at what he’s seeing: Rhett who’s struggling to use his suit jacket to cover something wiggly and huffing under his arm. 

Rhett is staring at him, too, or more specifically Barbara. His eyes go wide and his mouth pops open in surprise. Then he’s grinning and dropping his jacket to the floor to reveal another dog, this one black and tan and _cute_, and Link is relieved before the surprise settles in. 

“Link!” Rhett starts laughing as he holds the wiggling ball of fluff under his arm. “What are you doing with a dog?” 

Link splutters out a shocked laugh. “What are _you_ doing with a dog?” Barbara is getting antsy where he holds her a little too tight so he sets her down, tail wagging furiously, and she runs to Rhett automatically. He doesn’t feel his heart swell, _he doesn’t_. Rhett bends down, the other dog completely calm and fine now that the jacket has been removed. 

Rhett scoops Barbara up, beaming. Link bridges the gap between them, overwhelmed suddenly, and rises up on his toes to kiss the other man. It’s kind of hard with two dogs between them but he manages. It’s just a soft press of his lips and quick, Rhett barely having time to respond before he’s rocking back to his heels.

“Happy birthday,” Link says, laughing, and points to Barbara’s bandanna. “I was at the market and someone mentioned a dog adoption and one thing led to another.” He doesn’t realize he’s blushing until his cheeks warm and Rhett’s grin grows wider. “What?” 

“That’s where I got this one!” Rhett begins, laughing again, louder this time. Standing back up, he smiles at the dog and she wags her tail, happily accepting the attention, before handing her over to Link. “I saw her and I, uh,” he rubs the back of his neck, cheeks pinking in embarrassment, “I knew you’d love her. Her name’s Jade.” 

Link feels a swell of emotion, but quickly tamps it down in favor of hugging Jade close. She licks his nose and he’s instantly in love. “Well that’s Barbara. And I guess we’re in the same boat,” he grins again, “I saw her and knew you would love her.” Now he’s the one blushing under Rhett’s gaze. He looks away and turns his attention to Jade who’s just sitting in his arms, content to be held. 

“I love her,” Rhett whispers fiercely as he rubs behind Barbara’s ears. Link sighs watching the two of them. Two dogs at once might end up being a lot with their schedules and how much they work, but seeing Rhett happy is enough to make it worth it. “But,” he pauses and looks between both dogs, “an apartment isn’t fair when we’re gone most of the day, Link.”

Link nods, a grin overtaking his face. This conversation has been a long time coming, something they have tiptoed around for weeks, but two dogs coming into the equation seems to be the perfect excuse to bring it up and put it out in the open. He crushes his mouth to Rhett’s, Jade struggling under his arm and Barbara barking at them. 

“Then let’s get a house,” Link murmurs, lips brushing Rhett’s with every word. He rocks back on his heels, grinning again. “We’ve been tiptoeing around it for weeks so let’s finally do it. Let’s start lookin’.” 

Rhett doesn’t say anything for a long time. Barbara wiggles out of his arms and Jade joins her on the floor. Link gets restless waiting for Rhett to snap out of it; the nerves are settling in deep the longer he just stands there and stares at Link. 

“Rhett?” Link asks finally, breaking the silence and seemingly breaking Rhett out of his stupor. 

Rhett surges forward and grabs Link by the cheeks, dragging him into a hot kiss, fingers tangling in his hair as he does so. When he pulls back Link gasps and sucks in a breath. Rhett sighs, “Yes, yeah, let’s start looking,” and Link beams at him. 

“It has to have a big backyard,” Rhett says as he grabs Link by the shirt and leads him down the hallway. 

“Of course.”  
“And there needs to be a pool because I have a feeling Barb likes swimming. Jade might need a floatie, but Barb will teach her how to swim.”

Link is shoved through the door. Rhett glances down the hallway to make sure the dogs are fine playing on their own, then shuts the door most of the way and gets his hands back on Link’s shirt.

“And that picture window you _always_ talk about needing by the bathtub, we’ll get one of those.”

Link tosses his shirt to the floor. “With electronic blinds so the neighbors can’t see?” 

Rhett rears back to look at him in confusion. “Why would the neighbors be lookin’ in the first place?” He kisses Link again and again while his fingers make quick work on Link’s pants. 

Rolling his eyes, Link jerks his shirt up and over his head, curls floofing wildly. “Nevermind that, what about the kitchen that you’re gonna cook for me in? Because you know all I can work with is a bowl of cereal and jar of peanut butter.”

The bed makes for a soft landing when Rhett pushes him down and crawls over him on all fours. He kisses Link’s chest and his throat and works his way across Link’s jawline until he reaches his mouth. 

“I don’t care, Link. As long as it’s with you.” A scratch on the door has both of them sitting up. Rhett laughs loudly when a white head pops in followed by a brown nose snuffling on the carpet. “And these two.” 

Link pats the bed and both dogs come running in, tails wagging furiously. 

“And these two.”


	11. jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo boy y’all. this one is...intense. I’m conflicted over it but I hope y’all enjoy it. this one is set about a year or so after senior partner

If there’s one thing that Rhett knows about himself it’s that he’s the jealous type. He always has been, ever since he was a child he would get jealous over the silliest things. Cole getting more attention from mom and dad, a girlfriend showing interest in another guy, a guy showing interest in someone other than him, it all would send him into a stupid spiral of jealous feelings. But with Link it’s different. Or more with _Chris_ it’s different. 

Chris came into Link’s life like a hurricane, unexpected and all consuming, upsetting the balance of he and Rhett’s not-relationship. It isn’t that Rhett _hates_ the guy, he doesn’t even know him all that well, but he is overwhelmingly jealous of the man. He has been since day one and watching Link flirt with the guy at work, leave with him some nights, it sets his gut on fire. There was one night Rhett walked in on Link on the plush leather couch, legs thrown over Chris’ shoulder, Chris tongue and two fingers deep, Link moaning softly and jerking himself off. 

Rhett was thrown off and instantly livid that Link would be so careless at work, door unlocked where anyone could walk in on their way out for the night. But the jealousy set his nerves aflame and made him see red and before he knew it he was gripping the handle too tight and slamming the door behind him, startling both men. He expected Link to freak out and shove Chris away, maybe be somewhat embarrassed. Link turned the tables on him, though, and settled right back into the couch once he realized it was Rhett, jerking Chris’ head back between his thighs with a wicked grin on his face. It didn’t take much for him to cum over his hand and his shirt, watching Rhett the entire time and Rhett watching back, blushing furiously. 

Needless to say the screaming match later was an epic one. There have been plenty of epic screaming matches and fights between the two of them, but this one put the others to shame. Rhett was embarrassed, whether from catching them or watching them or both, he wasn’t sure. Either way it spurred them on until eventually Link was shoving Rhett onto his knees and shutting him up with a cock in his mouth. It was effective and turned Rhett on enough that he came in his pants, untouched and reminiscent of his teenage years. 

Sometimes thinking about that day has Rhett blushing and fighting down a raging hard on, but then he remembers how Chris looked, blonde and beautiful and infuriating, between Link’s legs and Link falling apart underneath him. He wants Link to fall apart like that under _him_, with _his_ head between Link’s thighs, _his_ mouth and fingers on Link’s ass, _his_ name on Link’s lips when he cums, and _only him_. He gets those things enough but this time it’s different. This time Chris is involved and Rhett can’t stand it.

*

The opportunity comes after a rough day at the firm, only a month after catching the two men in the act. Link loses a case and a client all in one go, and Rhett is there to take the brunt of his temper tantrum. He stands there and listens while Link screams profanities at Rhett and tugs at his own hair, glasses askew and clothes rumpled, face blotchy and red in his anger.

“Are you done now?” Rhett asks finally, when Link has seemingly calmed down enough for Rhett to speak. He stalks closer, grabbing Link by the suspenders and yanking him forward into a hot kiss to shut him up. 

Link startles then settles into it, opening up on a moan and sinking into the kiss for a moment. Rhett ignores the heat blooming in his chest and cradles Link’s chin in his hand to hold him steady so they can kiss deeper. It always fascinates him how Link melts into him so easily, so willingly. But there’s no time for those thoughts right now. Right now he’s on a mission. 

The cab ride to Rhett’s apartment has Link in his lap, hands tangled in Rhett’s hair, hips rolling slow and steady against his and dragging moans from both of them. He doesn’t stop until the cab is pulling to the curb outside his apartment building and they’re forced to get out. Rhett is keyed up in the worst way, suit pants too tight in the crotch, and shirt sticking to him with sweat. He wants Link under him and _now_.

Link beats him to the lobby and the elevator. By the time Rhett reaches him the elevator is open and Link is standing inside waiting, foot holding the door open. He steps inside and almost misses the button for his floor before Link is dragging him to the wall and shoving him against it. Grinning wildly, Link presses forward, crashing their mouths together with a groan, leg working its way between Rhett’s thighs. 

The elevator ride is short thankfully. Rhett hurries down the hallway to his apartment, Link in tow and struggling to keep up. He’s already undoing the suspenders from his pants and popping the button when Rhett reaches the door to unlock it. He’s just as eager as Rhett it seems.

Inside Rhett wastes no time grabbing Link by the tie and leading him to the bed. Link tries to kiss him but Rhett growls and turns his head, mood shifting. The jealousy and hate and the _feelings_ have reared their ugly heads and he plans to show Link no mercy tonight. Catching him with Chris was too much in all the worst ways and now he wants to make Link pay and see how much it destroys him when blondie is around.

Rhett twists his hand in the tie and tugs Link close, Link gasping and stumbling, hands coming out to catch himself on Rhett’s chest. His eyes are wide and too blue as he stares up at Rhett in confusion. The tension feels like it’s coming off him in waves when Rhett leans down for a heated kiss, teeth nipping at his bottom lip, tongue soothing the sting for just a moment as he uses the tie to drag Link around and to the bed. He quickly undoes the buttons and the tie and slides everything off Link’s torso to the floor, glasses following and landing on the floor with his clothes.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asks as Rhett works his own tie off and over his head, tossing it to the floor, then moving to his pants. He makes quick work of the garment and unbuttons his shirt, getting all of it off in no time. “Rhett?” 

Growling, Rhett jerks Link into a hot kiss by the back of the neck, then in a fit of _something_, shoves him backwards onto the bed. He bounces and settles on his elbows, still with that bewildered expression on his face as he looks at Rhett. 

“You know what’s gotten into me, Link,” Rhett says as he drops to his knees and shoulders his way between Link’s thighs. He grasps the button and zipper of his pants and gets both undone so he can jerk the pants over Link’s hips, down his legs, and all the way off. Link shakes his head, no, still with that bewildered expression. Rhett smooths the palm of one hand up the back of Link’s calf and over his thigh. “Yes, you _do_.” He picks up Link’s leg and rests it over his shoulder, then roughly does the same with his other leg. 

“Rhett, what--” Link’s words are cut off by a strangled gasp when Rhett suddenly cranes his head down and flattens his tongue over Link’s hole, sweeping over it in a wide stroke before dipping just the tip past the ring of muscle. He does it again and again until Link is rolling his hips in small thrusts, hands clenching beside him in the sheets. “Fuck, Rhett, _more_.” 

Rhett sits back on his heels. He teases along Link’s inner thighs with both hands, fingertips light as he traces a pattern into Link’s skin that has him shivering. “You know what this is about, Link,” he says and goes back in for more. 

“_Shit_, no I don’t,” Link moans. He shifts his body around and wiggles his hips down towards Rhett’s face. Rhett grabs him by the waist and slides him across the bed some until he’s nearly hanging off. If it weren’t for his legs over Rhett’s shoulder he probably would slide right off and onto the floor. 

Rhett is relentless with his tongue and his fingers dig into Link’s hips hard enough to bruise. He pushes in and pulls out and does it all over again, keeps pressing insistently against Link’s prostate to get him moaning loud and tangling his fingers in Rhett’s hair. He tugs hard, the sharp pain sending a jolt straight to Rhett’s cock. 

“Rhett, _please_,” Link whines above him. Rhett shuffles back and Link whines again, hands tightening in Rhett’s curls, trying to get him to come back. 

Rhett sighs, presses his index finger into Link slowly, gets him keening high in his throat and arching his back, heels digging painfully into Rhett’s ribs. Then he adds a second finger and works both in and out slowly. “Is this how he does it?” he asks softly, eyes focused on the way his fingers look disappearing in Link’s body then slipping back out. 

Link stills on the bed. His hands stop clenching in the sheets and his hips stop moving and his heels lessen their painful digging on Rhett’s back. Rhett can hear how heavy he’s breathing, how torn he is between arousal and anger. It’s a well known fact that Link has a temper; most people know by now not to say something that could set him off. But Rhett uses it to his advantage all the time, gets Link keyed up with his words, uses that temper as a driving force to fuck deeper and harder and faster. Rhett knows exactly what to say to get the other man stiff and tense.

“Rhett,” Link says, a warning coloring his voice as he props up on his elbows and stares down his body at Rhett, still two fingers in and not stopping. “Don’t—“

Link’s words are cut off by Rhett pressing his fingers on that bundle of nerves. He throws his head back and jerks his hips up and his cock twitches and leaks onto his stomach. Rhett watches the liquid bead up on Link’s tan skin and stifles a groan. He surges forward and works his tongue in next to his two fingers, gathering up as much spit in his mouth as possible to help ease the way. 

Sitting back to breathe, Rhett surveys the man before him: spread out, taut thighs clenching and releasing over his shoulders, pelvis hitching in small thrusts as Rhett continues with his fingers, cock twitching and balls tightening with every sweep. Link looks obscene and it drives Rhett crazy knowing this is how he looks when he’s spread out just like this for Chris. 

“Does he get you good and soaked with his tongue,” Rhett continues and slows down his strokes. Link sucks in a gasping breath. “Then shove two fingers inside? Or,” a third finger joins the other two, “does he use three because he doesn’t know how much of a slut you are for the burn and stretch of only two when _I_ sink my cock into you?” 

Rhett ignores the crack in his voice and the fire in his lungs and continues to work Link open with his fingers. With every curl and sweep of the three digits Link moans louder. He’s rolling his hips in shallow thrusts, hole clenching around Rhett’s fingers, desperate for more, one hand wrapping around himself and gathering up the wetness at the tip. Rhett watches as he uses it to slick himself up, thumb and index finger forming a loose grip as he does so. He’s still propped on an elbow and his face is contorted in pleasure, brows knitted tightly and mouth gaped open. When Rhett plunges his fingers in and hits his prostate again Link falls off his elbow, hand stilling around his cock. 

For a moment Rhett just watches his fingers disappearing in and out of Link’s ass. It’s fascinating to watch and any other time he would be fine to kneel there and drive Link crazy with just this. He gets loud and wild every time Rhett uses his fingers, and the longer he goes the wilder Link gets. But this isn’t about driving Link crazy with pleasure. This is about that goddamn intern and that stupid couch with Link spread open wide and a face buried in his ass, shameless with Rhett watching. 

The memory spurs him on. Rhett gives Link’s prostate one more sweep, doesn’t miss the way it makes his dick twitch and force out another dribble of precum onto his already wet stomach, and then pulls them out and wipes his hand on his thigh. Link shivers and gives himself a slow stroke as Rhett lifts both legs off his shoulders. Link gasps in surprise when he nearly falls off the bed because Rhett is standing. 

Crawling on hands and knees over Link, Rhett leans down and kisses him, lets him taste himself. He moans into Link’s mouth before wrenching away, whispers, “Do you beg for it, Link?” With every word his lips brush Link’s. “Do you beg Chris to fuck you the same way you beg me?” 

Link exhales, oxygen sounding like it’s been punched out of him at Rhett’s words. A blush blooms across his cheeks and he has to turn his head away, break their eye contact. A lick of jealousy races down Rhett’s spine; it’s so telling the way Link looks away, the way he blushes. 

“Fuck, you _do_ don’t you?” Rhett laughs humorlessly and the blush on Link’s cheeks deepens. “Get up,” he growls. 

Rhett rolls to the side and sits on his haunches, waiting. Link, angry now, gets up and walks on his knees to Rhett, skin flushed in his anger and Rhett can feel it rolling off him waves. He stops moving when their knees touch. 

“You know you loved watching him eat me out on that couch, Rhett,” Link spits. He leans forward, lips close enough to brush Rhett’s ear when he speaks again, “I know I did.” He snickers and Rhett’s vision edges with red hot jealousy and rage. 

Rhett doesn’t respond. Instead he roughly gets Link turned around, seated in his lap back to chest, cock trapped between them in the cleft of his ass. Breathing ragged, Link rocks down, sweat slicking the way for Rhett to rut against him. He moans and his hands find purchase on Rhett’s thighs, digging in to the point of pain. 

Kissing the back of Link’s neck, Rhett reaches between them and grasps himself. Another kiss and Link is shifting forward enough to rise up on his knees. “Do you like it when he fucks you?” Rhett murmurs, lining himself up and pushing just the head in. Link stutters on a moan and sinks down slowly, nails leaving stinging marks in Rhett’s legs as he goes. 

“Shut up,” Link gasps and he throws his head back onto Rhett’s shoulder, eyes closed and chest heaving. 

Inching in torturously slow, Rhett laughs and uses both hands to hold Link steady at the waist. His thighs begin to burn from moving so slowly but the pace is worth it, getting Link moaning and pliant is worth the agonizing pace of fucking into him like this. 

Finally Rhett bottoms out in one more thrust and Link arches his back beautifully, eyes squeezed shut and lips a thin line pressed together. “Is _his_ cock better than _mine_?” he asks, lips ghosting over Link’s ear as he speaks. “Does Chris fill you up like I do?” He punctuates his words with a slow roll of his hips and Link groans. 

“_Shut up_,” Link huffs. His eyes have opened and they’re a bright burning blue as he fixes a glare on Rhett. 

Rhett doesn’t give Link time to adjust before he’s holding him steady and moving in shallow thrusts. Fingers dig in deeper and Link lets out a guttural moan, vibrating in his chest and Rhett can feel it. He thrusts again, grips tighter, tight enough to make Link jerk. His pace is agonizing and Link is sucking in breath after breath trying to breathe and hold on to Rhett’s thighs at the same time. 

A quicker roll of his hips and a pinch to Link’s sides has Link finally moving. He grinds down onto Rhett’s lap hard then back up, setting his own rhythm in time with Rhett’s torturous thrusts. The angle is difficult and muscles are burning and shaking but Rhett isn’t going to let up. He wants to draw this out, bring Link to the edge on his cock alone, make him feel it. 

A rough moan rips its way out of Link’s chest and he’s scrambling to find Rhett’s hands, bring one of them around to his cock. But Rhett won’t give in. He splays his hand on Link’s wet belly, avoiding touching him, and grins when Link huffs. 

“He make you feel better than me?” Rhett asks, low in Link’s ear. He sees the skin reddening as he speaks and the jealousy flares hot in his chest. “Shit, Link, look at you, turning red just from thinkin’ about it.” 

Link breathes deep and exhales slowly, “Screw you, Rhett.” His head lolls to the side on Rhett’s shoulder and Rhett sinks his teeth into the junction between neck and shoulder, then soothes the bite with his tongue. The skin under his lips is on fire, the blush spreading from Link’s neck and down his body, all the way to his cock leaking on his stomach. Every thrust and roll of Rhett’s hips makes him twitch and more precum beads out, smearing on his skin. 

“You think about him every time we fuck?” Rhett bites off a moan as Link clenches around him on the way up. “_God_, you’re such a wh—“ Rhett pauses, mouth forming around the word, wants to say it so bad, but a hitch in Link’s chest causes him to stop. 

The blush on Link’s body, Rhett realizes, isn’t from thinking about another man while he’s being fucked. He’s—he’s _embarrassed_, he’s red hot with shame and arousal. Rhett reaches up and grabs him by the chin, turning his head towards Rhett. He avoids Rhett’s gaze, instead wrenches out of his grip and falls forward to the bed, hands bracing himself on the mattress.

“Shut up and fuck me proper,” he moans at the new position. Rhett rises up on his knees, shifting Link with him so he’s on his elbows, ass in the air, Rhett’s cock pressing on his prostate. 

Rhett doesn’t talk anymore. He grabs Link by the hips and holds him flush, keeping him still. He’s hot under Rhett’s hands and the blush of his skin is making him sweat even more. He’s silent where he rests on his elbows except for the occasional moan punched out of him with Rhett’s thrusts. 

Link moans one final time and twists his hips, jerking through every pulse of his cock releasing thick white streaks on the bed. His hands are gripping the sheets in a vice like grip and Rhett can’t help himself; he reaches around and strokes Link through it, falling to his free hand so he can reach better. Link gasps, bucks his hips a last time and finishes on Rhett’s hand in a weak and sticky mess.

Gritting his teeth, Rhett follows, flush against Link’s ass, spilling hot and fast into him. His vision edges black he cums so hard, and when he’s done and shaking he pulls out slowly, Link wincing and flinching away. He flops to his back and tries to remember how to breathe. 

Another hitch catches Rhett’s attention. Boneless and dizzy he looks over at Link, chest constricting at the sight before him. Link is trembling and fisting the sheets, skin flushed an even deeper pink, cum dripping out and down his balls and his thigh; his cheeks are wet and bright red. Rhett closes his eyes, tries to ignore the obvious regret coiling in his chest, and rolls over and off the bed.

“Link—“

“Go away,” Link whispers. “Get out, _go away_, Rhett.” He sniffles and wipes his face on the sheets. 

Rhett opens his mouth to say something, anything. But he can’t find the words. He reaches out to touch and when he does Link recoils and Rhett swears he hears a sob where he’s got his face now hidden in the bed. The shame is evident and the embarrassment rolling off him but he isn’t moving from his position. 

“I’m—I’m sorry, I don’t—“

Link sits up suddenly and when he turns around to face Rhett his eyes are wet and his bottom lip shaking. “I said _get. out_.” His voice shakes.

So Rhett does. He gathers up his things and hurries out the door, grabbing his keys along the way, and ignoring the ache in his chest and the fire still in his veins. He dresses quickly in the hallway, takes one more look at Link who’s sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, then leaves, quietly closing the front door behind him.

When he returns later, Link is gone.


	12. camp vibes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is set right after camp navarro in corporate retreat. now look, i was kinda shitty to link in this one but I'm super proud of this one too? fjdsfkldjya ANGST CITY OKAY

In all his life Link has never felt like _this_. He’s never had a metaphorical ache so deep in his bones that it hurt every time he moved or breathed. His feelings have been hurt, his heart has been broken, but this takes the cake. This moment steals his breath and makes his heart hurt to the point of having to rub his chest, dig his fingers in like he can claw the feeling out with his own hands. Everything hurts and he supposes it’s partly his fault. 

Their return to Los Angeles was a silent one. Chase and Tim were seated in first class and Chris was...somewhere on the plane. Link downgraded his seat just to be away from everyone. He couldn’t bear the thought of sitting with them, their awkward glances, small talk that skirted around the topic of camp and all its events. Normally the type to sleep during travel, this time he didn’t. He was wide awake for the entire two hour flight and when the plane landed he was the last one to line up and get off. He didn’t wait for anyone else, didn’t acknowledge anyone’s attempts to catch up to him with “Let’s share a cab, come on!” But he thinks they understood in the moment. 

Now, starfished in the middle of his living room floor, bottle loosely held in his grip, Link stares at the ceiling. The lights are off and the sun is beginning to set, leaving the room with a warm glow. Link is anything but warm right now. He’s cold from the crisp fall air dropping in temperature and he’s cold from the floor and he’s cold from the image of Rhett storming out of that tent, leaving Link with dying words on his lips and fingers desperately grasping for a man that didn’t want to stay. That moment hurt more than any other in the last twelve years. 

Rhett has left him used many a time. He’s bitten and drawn blood and marked Link up more times than either of them can count. He’s gripped Link’s hips and thighs and waist so hard he’s left bruises. Link has been fucked mercilessly more times than he can remember, left for days with a burn and emptiness that only served to make him blush and touch himself every night until he got it again. But none of it hurt like this. None of it was so bad that he couldn’t take it. His body, mind, and soul have been crushed beyond repair it feels like and it’s all Rhett’s fault. Or, _partly_ his fault.

Every shift on the floor makes his muscles ache and the ghost of a cramp will start then disappear. The scratches and bruises and bitemarks on his body sting where his shirt scrapes against them. The drink helps to ease his physical pains, but his mind is still reeling and his heart is still hammering in his chest. He takes another awkward sip from his position on the floor and the bottle clinks on the hardwood. He tries his damndest not to think about Rhett. 

Which proves to be the most difficult thing in the world right now when he’s buzzed and miserable. Closing his eyes, Link can see that six foot seven frame towering over him if he squeezes hard enough. Green eyes are blazing hot under long lashes and cheeks are rounded because of a smile he thinks isn't noticeable. Knees hit the hardwood and hands land on Link’s calves and then those hands wander until they’re on the waistband of his pajama bottoms. If he tries harder he can remember what Rhett’s hands felt like two days ago as the two of them wrecked each other all day and night. He’s ashamed to find that he’s half hard in his pajamas so he groans and rolls to his side, cradling the bottle against his chest and willing his body to stop reacting to someone who’s not here. 

It’s futile, though. For twelve years he’s been addicted to Rhett’s hands and his mouth and his cock, and on the gentler side of things his mind and his smile and his overall goodness that makes people like him so much. So reacting is the only thing Link knows how to do. All the attempts at getting Rhett to stay, to be soft, to be present, have left Link with only the knowledge of how good it feels to be fucked by the other man instead of loved. He wouldn’t know how to not react to the thought of Rhett being there. 

That in mind, he gives it up and lets his mind wander and takes another drink. Rhett looming behind him, in front of him, all around him; big hands on his waist, on his back, on his shoulders; lips ravaging his, touching the soft spot on his neck, wrapping around him. The Scotch must be getting to him fast because for a quick second he thinks about Rhett laying here with him, holding him through the pain, and soothing the ache with words reserved for a lover.

_No, no, stop_.

Link groans into another sip of the drink and rolls onto his stomach. 

The rest of the night goes like this: Link drinks and wallows in his misery on his living room floor, only stopping when the marks on his body and the cramping in his sore muscles get to be too much. His bed isn’t much better and the emptiness only makes him wallow some more. He seesaws between images of Rhett just being there, holding him, and Rhett holding him down face first into the mattress with his cock buried in Link’s ass. That increases the restless behavior tenfold so he eventually goes to the shower, where he’s reminded of how good it feels to have his back pressed against the tiles and Rhett soaked before him with wild eyes.

Finally, Link gets settled on the couch with a blanket and his favorite bottle, watches the sun rise, and ignores the persistent feeling in his chest that hasn’t gone away for years.

*  
It must be another fit of restlessness that makes him do it. On Sunday morning, bright and early, Link punches the dial button for Chris. No hesitation, he just does it. It feels stupid and overwhelming but in his own screwed up way it also feels right. Every time he and Rhett would have some sort of fall out or Link just wanted to see him jealous, there would be Chris. 

Through the years of Chris being around, Link has come to use him as a crutch to dispel the energy that Rhett being emotionally constipated leaves him with. He didn’t realize it until this week and the first thing he wanted to do after Rhett left and he himself calmed down was to seek out Chris and his talented body. So it’s no use wondering why the flutter of anticipation in his belly makes him sick. 

When Chris arrives he’s apprehensive and his bandaged nose is bruised and swollen, making his face look abnormal in the sunlight filtering through the blinds. LA sounds are the only noise in the room as he carefully steps inside and shuts the door. He stares at Link then at the floor then at the ceiling. Link wills the dull throbbing in his head to go away and thinks he must be stupid or really hungover for this to be a good idea, ever. But he’s done worse, and all of it in the name of wanting someone that doesn’t seem to want him back. 

Link has had many opportunities to back out of situations like these over the years. Even after he found out how much of an asshole Chris can be, he still comes back for more, just to feel good because Rhett has once again proven that the two of them don’t fit, probably never will. 

“What kind of fucked up—“ Chris starts, voice strangled. _He_ can’t even find it in him to make Link feel bad no more than Link is already doing to himself. “For once, can we just be…I don’t know, friends? Maybe?”

Link closes his eyes, sees Rhett, opens them and sees Chris, says, “Shut up.” It must be the hangover throbbing at the base of his skull that makes him do it, or the ache in his bones or the deep purple bruise on his hip he bumps into on the corner of the couch, but he’s doing it. He’s grabbing Chris by the shirt and dragging him down the hall and shoving him into the bedroom.

Chris goes willingly and eventually a grin works its way across his face. He winces at the stretch on his abused face and Link thinks _good, I’m not the only one in pain_. Hands almost as big as Rhett’s get his bottoms off and a mouth not nearly as talented as Rhett’s land on a bite on his collarbone. Link groans and rocks his hips and doesn’t think about how much better someone else is.

The bed provides a soft landing and Link bounces when he hits the sheets still rumpled from his night of self pity. He automatically wraps his legs around the waist that doesn’t belong to Rhett and digs his heels into an ass that doesn’t in any way feel like Rhett’s. The eyes staring at him are blue instead of green, the lips quirked in a smirk aren’t as fun to sink his teeth into, and the cock he’s wrapping a hand around doesn’t feel as good in his hand as another one. He’s slowly losing his mind, this must be what it feels like, it has to be.

When two wet fingers work their way inside of him Link arches his back and winces at the immediate stretch and burn, but he doesn’t loosen his grip on that waist or the cock leaking onto his fingers. Instead he tightens his legs and forms a tighter fist and rides the feeling out until it turns into a delicious lick of pleasure up his spine and makes him gasp. He closes his eyes and squeezes around the fingers and knows that Rhett can do it better; Rhett can make Link’s toes curl and his vision blurry with just one sweep. 

After what feels like a lifetime his hand is removed from the length fucking into his fist and held down by his side and Link clenches the sheets beneath him in anticipation. If there’s anything that can make him forget, for just a moment, it’s concentrating on Chris’s cock filling him up. But this time it doesn’t make him forget. This time he’s hyper aware that he isn’t being fucked by _Rhett_, he isn’t being stretched open by _Rhett’s_ dick, he isn’t gasping and moaning and writhing around for _Rhett_. He isn’t begging for _Rhett_ to keep going, “Harder, faster, more, _please_.” He isn’t being held down by a man with golden curls and green eyes and a beard and big hands and the longest body he’s ever seen.

The immediate realization that he’s doing this, again, has Link throwing an arm over face and sobbing into the crook of his elbow. He feels too good on the outside and too horrible on the inside all at once. He sobs and moans his way through not-Rhett jerking him off and he’s ashamed to know he’s rock hard and pulsing with every stroke and thrust. When he’s close he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to reconcile the feeling of Chris’s hand on his dick and Chris’s cock in his ass with the image of Rhett’s instead. His orgasm hits him fast the third time not-Rhett’s-cock slams into his prostate and sends Link sliding across the bed.

Link stills through it, grip white knuckled in the sheets, as wave after wave of white hot pleasure rocks through him and splashes on his abs. He can’t stop how good it feels so he rides the waves and watches his own cum pulse out of his cock in bursts and pretends he doesn’t know what it feels like for Rhett to jerk him through it. The thought makes him twitch and a weak stream to dribble out onto his skin. Finally, gasping for air and trembling all over, Link finishes and drops his head down, ignoring the moans coming from above him.

Chris follows fast and Link rolls his hips lazily to help him through it. It’s a good distraction for a few seconds but as soon as it’s over he’s pulling away and wincing as Chris’s softening cock slips out and leaves a mess behind to drip out of him. He uses a foot to shove Chris back and props himself on his elbows.

“You’re fired.” Link says suddenly. “I want you out of the office in two days or I’ll—“

“What?!” Chris spits. “Sue me?” He snatches his clothes from the floor and dresses quickly. 

“Maybe,” Link says. There’s a fire burning in his chest and he really needs Chris to leave so he can snuff it out with more Scotch. 

Chris scoffs and rolls his eyes. Link sits up fully, grimacing at the tacky skin between his legs and the bruises and scratches that have begun to sting again. “He’s leaving, you know, McLaughlin? Accepted a job at Scherer & Scherer.” He’s grinning wickedly as he speaks.

“Get out.”

Link flies off the bed, heart hammering in his chest and pulse racing under his skin. He shoves Chris towards the door, Chris still grinning, _still not Rhett_. 

“It’s true, he’s out by Friday. Heard it from Tim this morning.” 

Link doesn’t believe him. Rhett wouldn’t leave would he? He wouldn’t run away again. He _wouldn’t_. Not when they were so close to some sort of breakthrough, no matter how short lived it was.

“Get out, get out, _get out_!” Link doesn’t care how shrill his voice has become or how hard he’s shoving the other man down the hallway towards the door. He hopes it hurts.

Chris says, “It eats you up inside doesn’t it?” and Link loses it. He shoves Chris into the wall by the door and growls at him and secretly loves how hard Chris flinches away. “This is what happens, Link. This is what happens when you whore yourself out between two men instead of taking what you want.” 

“Shut up and leave.”

He hates the way his voice cracks.

“You love him but you had to come to me to—“ Chris doesn’t finish before he’s being unceremoniously flung out the front door. 

Link slams it, locks it, and sinks down to the floor, head in his hands and tears on his cheeks and an ache in his chest that won’t go away.


	13. caught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the time that tim caught them. link still has his short little baby wings, so this is about middle of their fourth year. this one started out kinda short but AS USUAL I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL

The dinner is in full swing. Every associate at McLaughlin & Neal is in attendance, milling around with drinks in their hands and food on their plates. This place is upscale and expensive, perfectly aligned with the expectations set by the firm. Conversation flows just as easily as the booze. 

_Thank god for the booze_. 

Rhett holds his drink close to his chest, frowning when a first year bumps into him and nearly sends the liquid sloshing all over his nice new suit. The guy apologizes and walks off; he’s clearly drunk if the way he staggers between people is anything to go by. Rhett backs himself against the wall to steer clear of any other attendees. He’s somehow managed to find himself in a throng of first years, listening to them moan and groan about the workload of being an associate while downing drink after drink and appetizers. 

As he leans and sips he can feel a pair of eyes on him. Glancing around, Rhett scans the crowded restaurant, over a sea of heads, and lands on Link. He’s propped on a table, hip cocked and ankles crossed, Tim across from him gesturing dramatically. But Link doesn’t seem to be paying attention. His focus is solely on Rhett. 

Licking his lips and downing the rest of his drink, Rhett pushes away from the wall and stalks across the room. Link straightens and says something to Tim who waves him off and takes a sip of his drink. Rhett takes a hard left, Link follows closely, and they end up in the men’s room, crashing together with a moan into an empty stall without considering that someone else might be in the restroom with them. Rhett pauses long enough to listen for anybody else and finds it blessedly silent.

“About time you looked at me,” Link huffs as Rhett works his way from his sharp jawline to the dip in his throat. At the same time he gets his fingers on the button of Link’s pants and the zipper follows. “I’ve been starin’ for the last half hour, man. That suit--” He’s cut off by Rhett unceremoniously reaching a hand into the front of the pants and his underwear and wrapping around his cock. 

Rhett laughs when Link thunks his head against the wall. “You like this suit? I bought it new,” he gathers up the wetness already beading at the tip and uses it to ease his way down then back up, “just for you.” And he isn’t too far off from the truth. He saw the suit while window shopping with Tim, the charcoal grey catching his eye as they passed the store. But it was the blue tie paired with it, an almost perfect comparison to Link’s blues, that really drew him to it. When he tried the suit on and had it pinned and measured, he knew it was one that would drive the other man crazy.

There’s something in Link’s expression that nearly makes Rhett pause, but he ignores it and brings his lips to Link’s neck, sucks a mark just beneath the collar of his green shirt, twists his hand the way he knows Link likes it. This isn’t about anything other than getting off, right here in the restroom of an upscale restaurant while all of their coworkers mingle just outside the door. Anything else will have to be pushed aside and ignored. 

Rhett hits a sensitive spot behind Link’s ear, a spot that never fails to make him laugh, and Link does. He laughs and tugs at Rhett’s hair, keeps him there for a moment while Rhett kisses the spot and grazes it with his teeth and works his hand over Link’s cock. He presses Link into the wall further, harder, grabbing a leg and hooking it around his waist. The waistband of Link’s pants and underwear makes the angle uncomfortable and he can’t get the momentum right, huffs as he tries and fails to do it right. 

Link must sense Rhett’s struggle because he drops his leg and shoves Rhett back enough to work his clothes down his hips, just enough for them to be out of the way, and this is easier; it’s easier for Rhett to ruck Link’s shirt up with one hand and get his other hand back on Link’s cock without material in the way. Link moans loudly when Rhett squeezes his hand around the head and forms a tight fist on the way back down, effectively slicking him up.

This is quick and dirty, meant to be a fast fuck before the party demands their attention again, but Rhett gets lost in it for a minute. He moans into Link’s neck, sucks a mark under the jut of his jaw, rocks his hips into Link’s and strokes his hand faster. The bathroom isn’t exactly perfect and the small space is slightly cramped for two men six feet or taller, but he’ll be damned if it doesn’t happen. He’s breathing heavily and Link has his head thrown back against the wall, eyes shut tight, and it’s _good_, he’s already close from the excitement of being in such a public place and having Link right here, tucked tightly to him. 

If he keeps this up, rocking into Link and jerking Link off at the same time, then he’ll come in his pants like a teenager in no time. The rush just thinking about it makes him moan and sink his teeth into the junction between neck and shoulder. Link thrusts his hips, digs his hands into Rhett’s back, moans getting louder, and--

The door swings open, Link’s hips stutter in Rhett’s hold as he cums between them unexpectedly, and Rhett barely catches him in time before his knees buckle. Frozen, Rhett holds Link around the waist, face buried in Link’s shoulder, fingers digging in too hard around his waist. Whoever opened the door isn’t closing it anytime soon it seems, nor do they seem to be freaking out.

A groan and then, “Really, guys? _Here_?”

Rhett whips his head around at the familiar voice and sees Tim standing in the open door of the stall, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the pair of them. They must look a mess, Link slumped against the wall with his clothes bunched around his ass and thighs, jizz getting tacky on his stomach and cock, Rhett’s arm tightly wound around his waist so he doesn’t fall. His hand is sticky and covered in Link’s release and his other hand braced on the wall behind Link’s head is white knuckled. 

Tim stares at them, avoiding anything below the face. Rhett’s blush is fierce and when he looks at Link he sees a blush on his face as well. “Look, I don’t wanna know okay? Just--” Tim pauses and gestures between them wildly, “Be careful. Don’t fuck each other up too badly.”

He backs up and lets the door close. Rhett stays where he’s at until the bathroom door is opening a few seconds later, Tim calling out, “And learn to lock the door next time dumbnuts!” Link laughs loudly and Rhett huffs. 

For a moment Link rests his hand on the back of Rhett’s neck, playing with the short hairs he finds while Rhett jerks his clothes back into place gently. He stops and just holds Link around the waist, thumbs rubbing circles into his hip bones, and for a second it feels like a normal thing to be fooling around in a bathroom at a party; they could go home together, leave right now after cleaning up, and do it all over again. But they won’t. 

Rhett’s still semi hard in his pants, Tim’s unceremonious arrival killing his mood a little. He sighs and rights himself as Link scooches away from him and finishes getting his clothes in place. He grimaces when his shirt sticks to his stomach, and Rhett watches as he opens the door and goes straight for the sink. Link is silent as he cleans up with a wet paper towel, staring at Rhett in the mirror briefly. 

“We’ve gotta stop doing this,” Link mutters, gaze dropping from the mirror to the process of washing his hands and cutting the water off; a distraction. 

This gets Rhett moving across the space in three quick strides. He crowds Link into the edge of the sink, bracketing Link’s body with his arms on either side, front pressed fully to Link’s back. Link pushes his hips back some, enough to have Rhett’s cock twitching in interest. 

“Stop doing what?” Rhett asks. His lips land on the back of Link’s neck, just below the wisps of dark hair at the nape, and he kisses Link there, groaning when Link rolls his hips back again. “This?” Rhett follows with a roll of his own. He grinds his crotch into Link’s ass, moans as the sensation brings him back to full hardness. 

Rhett _can’t_ stop doing this and neither can Link. He keeps pressing kisses into the back of Link’s neck, keeps grinding into his backside, the friction provided by their clothes making it easier to be close to finishing. A hand finds his on the sink and Rhett can’t stop it from grabbing him and wrapping his arm around Link’s middle. Instead he digs his fingers into Link’s belly, huge hand splayed across Link’s front and holding on as he continues to roll and thrust his hips in small circles.

“It’d be easy, you know,” Rhett starts and glances over Link’s head into the mirror. Link’s eyes are closed and scrunched around the corners, mouth open on a silent moan. “I could just pull your clothes back off, fuck you right here. We’d barely have to move. _Anyone_ could find us, just like Tim did.”

Link moans then, and Rhett digs his fingers in tighter, rolls his hips a little more frantically. He’s almost there, just needs more friction, more _Link_. So his other arm still on the sink wraps around Link’s midsection and Link braces himself on the edge with his own hands and this is good. It gives him enough leverage to really grind into Link, to imagine his clothes off and his ass stretching around Rhett’s cock, taking him in so easily, right here in a public bathroom.

Rhett buries his face in Link’s neck, breath hot on his skin. “The way you moan, _fuck_, _stay right there_,” Link laughs and circles his hips again then stills them, just like Rhett asked. Rhett continues. “I’m not surprised he found us. He probably already suspected.” 

“We’re not exactly silent when we do this,” Link huffs. 

Rhett groans into Link’s neck and Link sticks his butt out a little more. “But fuck you take it so good, Link, you’re amazing.” He doesn’t know what he’s saying or what he’s doing but he’s almost there. 

Link moans, loud and strangled, and it’s enough for Rhett. He squeezes Link’s middle and stills flush against Link’s ass, grunts and groans into Link’s neck as he spills in his underwear and his nice new suit. When he’s finished he slumps forward some, nearly toppling them both over if it weren’t for Link still holding onto the sink edge. 

After a beat Link turns awkwardly in Rhett’s hold. He looks Rhett up and down, settling on the wet spot Rhett can feel seeping through his clothes. “Your new suit,” he murmurs. 

“Isn’t the first time,” Rhett grins at him and Link rolls his eyes. “Definitely won’t be the last time.” 

Link smiles and Rhett squeezes him and for another moment it feels normal. He sighs, releases Link, and starts to clean up, chest tight.


	14. the view

Rhett is itching for a good fight. Maybe a good fuck. He doesn’t know; just that he’s got that itch he can’t scratch under his skin as he stares at the open case files on his desk, unable to concentrate. The words started to bleed together an hour ago, his vision went a little blurry from the _tired_ creeping through his veins, and he lost all focus when that itchy feeling took hold. It’s now past eleven at night, too late to be staying in the office, too late to be getting anything productive done. But this mock trial case is important for a multitude of reasons and he doesn’t want to disappoint his dad, the judge, or Mr. Neal, his client. 

Link is somewhere in the building, fussing over his own set of files for the trial, probably having a Link Fit about it. He’s the opposition, the one everyone is looking at to win, and Rhett is the bad guy in the situation. Normally it wouldn’t bother him to be pitted against Link, but tonight he’s on edge about it. He’s been at this for over an hour and grew frustrated with it fast. Now he just needs something to do; his hands are restless and his legs jittery, needing an outlet. 

“Screw this,” he mumbles and tosses his pen and highlighter onto his desk. That itch needs to be scratched somehow, so he stands and leaves, determined to find Link.

The hallways are mostly dark, the majority of the firm having already gone home for the night at a reasonable hour. It’s nice and quiet as Rhett wanders his way towards the corner office he’s so jealous of. He can hear Tim puttering around in the break room and maybe a couple of associates, but for the most part, the place is empty. As he walks he hums; it’s a simple song, something he heard from one of Link’s records just a few days ago that stuck with him. 

As he nears the office, Rhett can hear the very same record playing softly. He slows to a near stop outside the open door, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed. It’s a good song by Merle Haggard, his favorite singer since he was a boy and his mom would play it, his dad dancing with her in the kitchen to their song. 

_This could be_\--

Rhett shakes his head and pushes the door open the rest of the way, shoving aside any lingering thought he might’ve had. The late hour makes him dopey, he knows this, Link knows this, it never fails to make him think stupid thoughts about things he can’t have. Shaking it off, he pokes his head into the office. He’s fully prepared to say something a little rude, a little standoffish to announce his presence, but he stops suddenly, breath punched from his lungs in one fell swoop when he sees it.

It isn’t the glow of the dimly lit lamps or the soft sounds coming from the record player, or the files scattered across the conference table tucked away in the corner of the room, or the bottle of expensive whiskey open on the drink trolley with a solitary glass sitting next to it, or even the tie and jacket draped loosely over a chair. No, _no_, none of that steals the air from his chest and makes his steps falter and his pulse race. What it is, is _Link_. 

_Shit_.

The windows in the corner office are, undoubtedly, the ones with the best view of the city. This is one of the reasons why Rhett is so jealous that Link got the space and not him. The wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-floor windows offer up a view that is breathtaking, the city below beautiful in all its glory. During the day it’s nothing but clear skies and buildings and cars as far as the eye can see, the noises dulled this high up but still audible, still energetic. At night, though, the city lights are bright and reflect on the glass, and the night life provides a steady, comforting hum while they work. 

That view never fails to make Rhett happy, especially on the toughest days and nights. But this one just might be his favorite view now. He’s seen Link spread out before him, naked and sweaty and moaning. He’s seen Link on top of him, eyes closed and hands splayed out on his chest for support and head thrown back. He’s seen Link waltzing around in those perfectly fitted suits, in pajamas, in the nude. None of it compares to this Link, though.

This Link is standing by the windows, not too far from the table, one hand shoved deep in his pocket, material pulled tight around his ass. A glass of whisky is in his other hand and he’s nursing it close to his chest, the drink almost gone. Hair a mess, collar unbuttoned, shoes gone, and glasses missing, Link is haloed in the city lights. Reds and blues and greens sharpen his jawline, deepen the wrinkles beginning to show from years of hard work, reflect off the points of his teeth where they are sunk into his bottom lip like he’s deep in thought.

Rhett doesn’t know what to do. He’s itching to start a fight, but he doesn’t want to lose this view. For a moment he thinks Link looks a little peaceful, probably the most relaxed he’s been in awhile, and it causes a hitch in Rhett’s chest. Does he come in and ruin it? He could easily say something to break the moment, to piss Link off, get him keyed up and itching like Rhett. _But_ he could just as easily walk in, slip his hands around that slim waist, kiss that spot on the back of Link’s neck that makes him shudder and maybe, just maybe--

“I can see you looming. It’s creepy.”

Startled, Rhett jerks in surprise at the sound of Link’s voice. He sees Link’s reflection staring back at him, smirking. “Who says _looming_?” he needles as he comes further into the office. He kicks his shoes off too, because why not; if Link’s going to walk around barefoot then so is Rhett.

“Me,” Link responds. “Either come in or leave, but don’t loom there like a giant.” Rhett can see a smile fighting its way into hiding. 

Rhett comes closer, stops, hesitates. He’s spent so many years crashing into Link that this has him off kilter. It feels different just walking casually into Link’s office and having a semi-normal discourse with him, instead of coming in and taking what he wants. He’s _going_ to take what he wants but the sight of Link illuminated by the city below has him pausing, slowing down, taking in the view longer than usual. He continues and doesn’t stop until he’s right behind Link.

Link sighs. It’s not lost on Rhett that he leans back just a little, sways right into Rhett’s chest for the briefest second, elbows brushing over Rhett’s body. Assuming he’s tipsy, Rhett fights down a surge of affection that the late hour brings at Link’s moment of vulnerability. He can’t let his hands wander, can’t let them land on that tiny waist or those broad shoulders and guide him backwards. No, it’s too much. He doesn’t want those things. 

Instead of entertaining the idea of Link leaning with him, Rhett reaches around and grabs the glass of nearly gone whisky, finishes it in one swallow, and sets the glass on the drink tray next to them. Link huffs in protest at the loss of his drink. Rhett says nothing but rocks forward, lets himself have something he shouldn’t when his lips land on the back of Link’s neck and his hand lands on Link’s waist and he just breathes for a second. “I was enjoying that whiskey,” Link murmurs, his hand finding Rhett’s on his own waist.

_Shit, shit, shit_.

This can’t happen, he can’t take something he can’t have, he can’t take Link like this and then walk out a few minutes later with a knot in his chest and a fire in his veins that won’t go away for hours. He should step back and walk out now before this gets too far like it always does. But then Link is turning around, Rhett’s hand still in his, and leaning against the glass, is tilting his head back to look up at Rhett, parting his lips and sighing, and fuck if Rhett isn’t sucked right in. This view is even better, with Link’s too blue eyes reflecting the city as he stares and stares, and Rhett can’t help the way he ducks down and takes a small part of what he wants.

Kissing Link is something Rhett could do for hours; sometimes it’s better than the sex. And tonight is no different. He just _feels_ different as he crowds Link into the glass and uses his free hand to tangle in salt and pepper hair so he can tilt Link’s head back further, kiss him deeper, make him moan softly and rock his hips forward into Rhett’s. He’ll regret this, regret these feelings, come morning but for now he’s going to enjoy it. 

The mood shifts the longer they kiss. Rhett tunes out the noises below and focuses solely on the lips beneath his and the hand still holding his at Link’s waist; he’s vaguely aware of the record still playing the background, the dim lighting mingling with the lights coming through the glass, the muted sounds from around the office as the last remaining people linger. He can feel the tell tale fluttering in his belly when Link presses forward, his other hand roaming, unable to settle on one part of Rhett’s body. 

Before long Rhett has to stop and breathe. His chest is tight and his gut tighter with a deep seated arousal that only Link can bring out. He’s suddenly, acutely aware of how hard he is in his pants, and can feel the same where Link’s body is aligned with his. Huffing, he surges back down and kisses Link roughly, hands coming to rest on his cheeks so he can tug Link closer and closer still. Shaking, Link’s hands flutter around his waist and nimble fingers jerk the shirt out of Rhett’s pants.

“We should,” Link starts, has to pause when Rhett dips down and presses a kiss to his throat, moans low, “we should stop. We should go home and get some, _fuck_, some rest.” Rhett moves down the open collar of Link’s shirt, kissing his way along the expanse of skin that’s exposed under the loose top buttons. 

“Why?” Rhett asks quietly, fingers finding the other buttons on Link’s shirt and slipping each one through the holes. He pulls the material aside and sinks his teeth into the junction where neck meets shoulder. 

Link hisses at the contact. “Long day coming up, that’s why.” 

But Rhett isn’t listening anymore. He’s lost in the view of skin being exposed the farther his hands go. First more shoulder, more torso, kisses following along the open shirt now hanging around Link’s body. Then tanned skin disappearing into nicely tailored suit pants followed by delicious hips where the pants sink low after being undone. Rhett has to drop to his knees to get his mouth on every inch possible. He has to touch with his hands, too, it’s not enough to feel with just his lips. Every sweep of his tongue has Link moaning above him, has his hands grasping at whatever part of Rhett he can get while Rhett nips and nibbles his way from chest to navel.

Link starts babbling something that sounds like Rhett’s name, maybe a few expletives. When Rhett sits back and looks up he sees blue eyes have closed tightly and his chest is heaving and the city lights are reflecting off the sweat rolling down his hairline. Rhett is struck with an all consuming need to fuck everything up right now, get what he wants, upset the careful balance they’ve held for so many years out of hate and spite. 

A hand tightens in his hair, Link says, “Why’re you stopping?” and drags his eyes open to stare down at Rhett. He licks his lips, bucks his hips forward, finds something to hold onto with his other hand. He’s just as lost in it as Rhett tonight.

The city lights and the city sounds halo Link perfectly, and it feels like something has cracked in Rhett’s chest the longer he takes in the view, and when he says, “I’m not,” it feels like he’s taking something he wants, for tonight. 

Even if it’s the briefest moment of weakness, even if he regrets it all come morning like he usually does, at least he has the view to keep him steady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all just THOUGHT there was gonna be banging didn't you?! fdsajflask sorry. not this time.


	15. nevermind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk what this is but two parts of it are em’s fault.

The office Christmas party never fails to turn Link into a bit of a sloppy drunk. He often finds himself fisting two flutes of champagne at once before moving on to the good scotch his dad springs for, and before he knows it he’s leaning in a corner groaning about a headache and nursing another glass close to his chest. This year he’s found himself in a similar predicament, only this time he’s got _feelings_ clawing at his chest. 

He knows how to quell those feelings and he knows how to make himself feel _better_, so he sets his sights on Rhett. He finds the other man chatting with the newest batch of first year associates. It’s funny seeing a junior partner be so nice to the lowest rung on the ladder, or maybe it’s just Link’s drunken haze making it funny, but either way he laughs on his way over to the group.

A server passes by with a tray full of something appetizing on Link’s way over. He snatches a couple of bites off the tray and eats them happily, not caring about the crumbs now sticking to the lapels of his brick red suit. It’s a festive suit that he loves to bring out for things just like this, and Rhett has made fun of him for it, though Link doesn’t care. He likes dressing for the holidays. 

“Rhett!”

Rhett jerks at the sound of Link’s loud voice. Link laughs some more and shoves through the group of associates, grabs Rhett’s wrist too tight, and pulls him away from the others. “Link, what are you--” he sputters but he doesn’t protest, Link notices. 

Link can’t explain the feelings clawing at his chest as he drags Rhett through the room. A few pairs of eyes watch them leave but he ignores them and instead focuses on the tightness settling underneath his ribs. He’s vaguely aware he’s holding onto Rhett’s wrist so hard his grip might bruise the other man, and he’s also aware that he doesn’t much care. There’s a feeling in his chest and alcohol in his veins and he’s emboldened by both.

Rhett’s office comes into view first so he makes a sharp right turn, nearly bumps Rhett into the wall, and crashes through the door drunkenly. He’s laughing and he thinks he might be spinning, or the room is spinning, or maybe both. The ground is dangerously close, he almost hits it, then an arm around his waist stops him and gathers him up against a broad chest, back to front. A _whoosh_rushes through him and makes him laugh some more.

“Link, you’re drunk,” Rhett says in his ear, lips brushing with every word. Link shivers and his cock twitches in his pants. 

“Yep, I am, buddyroll,” Link grins over his shoulder. Lips land on his cheek softly and Rhett’s hand digs into his stomach, grasping on like he can claw his way under Link’s skin. He wouldn’t mind; at least then Rhett would stay for awhile. 

Link rocks forward, out of Rhett’s grip, and stumbles into the side of the desk, leaning heavily on the edge. Reaching with grabby hands, he fists Rhett’s shirt in his fingers and drags him over right into a sloppy kiss. He misses his target at first, kiss landing on a bearded chin, a giggle bursting forth, then finally working his way up and slotting their mouths together. Rhett’s strong thigh nudges his legs open and presses _up_, right into his crotch, and he can’t help it, he needs more, he needs Rhett on his knees. 

Rhett must read his mind because he suddenly drops to the carpeted floor, brings his hands to Link’s hips and squeezes, moans breathlessly as he nuzzles at Link’s dick through the red material. But then he gasps and leans back enough to look at Link. 

“No underwear, at a _party_?” he asks, smirking. 

Link tips his head back and laughs loudly. “I’mma fancy man, Rhett,” he says, then, because he likes to see Rhett’s eyes darken, “I like clean lines.” And he grabs Rhett by the hair with one hand and uses his other to hold onto the edge of the desk, shoves Rhett’s face into his crotch because this is what he needs right now to stop the _something_ bubbling through his veins. 

The first press of Rhett’s hot mouth over his clothed cock makes his hand slip on the desk. He catches himself and moans and tangles his fingers in Rhett’s hair on the edge of too rough as Rhett mouths at him, spit soaking through the material. He was already half hard when they stumbled in, just from Rhett’s body crowded against him, but now, with the combination of spit and a mouth and hands squeezing around his hips he’s throbbing. Rhett has always been good with his lips and his tongue. 

For a long time Link rests there, all tension in his hand holding himself up on the desk and the other holding Rhett’s talented mouth against him. When he dares to look down he’s met with Rhett glancing up at him as he mouths his way along, with the hard outline of his cock framed by spit-soaked pants stained a darker red. The sight nearly causes his knees to buckle but Rhett holding him around the hips steadies him enough to watch. He watches that mouth trace the outline of him with the point of a tongue, all the way to the head where Rhett pauses, licks his lips like he loves what he tastes. 

“Fuck, Rh_ett_,” his words trail off in a moan as Rhett dives back in and, much to Link’s enjoyment, sucks at the head of his cock through his pants. This _does_ cause his knees to buckle. With the alcohol thrumming through his body and the sensation of Rhett sucking him off through clothes, Link is on edge fast. But he doesn’t want it to end too soon, so he pushes at Rhett’s head until he’s sitting back and wiping his mouth. 

Link is overwhelmed to the point of breathlessness. Rhett stands and kisses him, steals more air from his lungs. “Get the good stuff out,” he murmurs, smoothing his palms down Rhett’s front and stopping at the button of his pants. He pops it then slides the zipper down. “And get these off while you’re at it.” 

Grinning, Rhett kisses him one more time before walking around the desk and crouching in front of the second filing cabinet to the right. Link crowds behind him, urging him on faster as he pulls open the drawer and rifles around behind a bunch of files. Out comes a bottle of whiskey Rhett hides for the nights he works long hours; Link knows this because he’s indulged in the same bottle many a night without Rhett’s knowledge. 

Rhett stands and Link takes the fancy bottle from his hands. The cap twists off easily, the liquid goes down easier. He’s already drunk enough, but what’s a little more at a holiday party with Rhett by his side. His chest is tight enough as it is and drinking helps ease the ache. His movements aren’t as smooth as he thinks when he clumsily drags Rhett to his own office chair and pushes on his shoulder so he sits. 

It’s a known fact that Link loses most of his inhibitions when he gets drunk. So it’s easy to take another swallow of the whiskey and reach for Rhett’s pants at the same time. It’s easy to tug until Rhett raises his hips enough for Link to jerk the pants down, take another sip, set the bottle on the desk then fall into Rhett’s lap. He grinds his aching dick into Rhett’s, moaning loudly as the now cool fabric provides a perfect friction while he rolls his hips. It’s not enough, though.

“Get ‘em off,” Link whines softly and forces one of Rhett’s hands on the waistband of his suit bottoms. He helps by undoing them and standing, Rhett working the garment over his hips and ass until the pants are pooled at his feet and his cock is free. Stumbling, he manages to get everything off and his hand in Rhett’s tented underwear. 

“Link, Link, you’re drunk, and I’m halfway drunk--”

“Then get _more_ drunk,” Link demands, reaching for the bottle again. He holds it to Rhett’s chest and nudges it forward and finally Rhett grabs it, takes a long drink that draws Link’s eyes to his throat. While Rhett drinks Link pulls his cock out and gives it a slow stroke. He nearly chokes on the liquid and some of it dribbles out onto his beard, drips onto his neck and throat. Link watches the droplets, then dips forward and licks up every bead. “Don’t waste it.”

Rhett rolls his hips into Link’s fist and sets the bottle back on the glass desktop safely. Link settles on Rhett’s knees, hands come up to unbutton his shirt while he strokes Rhett’s cock and gathers the wetness at the tip to smear it in the way down. The buttons don’t get very far before Link is desperately leaning in for a messy kiss, rising up on his toes, hovering over Rhett’s lap. A hand replaces his and Rhett’s holding himself steady, other hand falling from the buttons of Link’s shirt to Link’s ass, fingers digging into flesh hard enough to sting.

Somewhere in his alcohol soaked brain he knows this is a bad idea, but he’s too far gone and he’s relaxed _enough_ and _fuck_, Rhett is right here, waiting, grasping at Link and tugging him forward and down. They kiss and Link finds purchase on the headrest of the chair and then and then and _then_ he’s sinking, hissing through the burn and the stretch and just resting with his mouth open against Rhett’s, breathing him in through gasps and moans. He’s relaxed enough and he got Rhett slick enough with his own pre-cum, he’s fine. 

_Shit, I’m perfect_. 

The burn gives way to a delicious spark along his spine and the moan Link lets loose is torn from his throat too rough. Rhett huffs out a long breath like he’d been holding it the entire time he pushed into Link, then he’s sucking a breath in and kissing Link again. They kiss and they kiss, and Link rolls his hips, cock sliding along Rhett’s shirt and leaving wet trails. The chair creaks under his hands as they move. 

“Damn, Link, you’re perfect, fuck you’re so perfect, oh my god,” Rhett babbles as his lips from Link’s mouth, across his jaw, down his throat. Link whimpers and rolls his hips at the same time Rhett thrusts shallowly. He needs another drink. 

Snatching the bottle off the desk, Link tips it back and drinks deep, moans when Rhett wraps a hand around his cock. He makes a mess of the whiskey, and lips and tongue find the droplets as they trail over his neck and down his chest, disappearing into his half-unbuttoned shirt. Rhett grabs the bottle next and does the same then lets it drop carefully to the floor next to them. 

Link can feel himself getting close. The combination of his drunken state, Rhett’s hand pumping Link in time with his thrusts, Rhett’s mouth on his skin, Rhett’s cock buried in his ass, it’s all too much and he’s getting there before he can slow it down. He’s desperate for that sweet release so he braces himself over Rhett’s shoulders on the chair, rocks his hips harder and faster. God, he’s almost there, if Rhett would just--

Rhett sinks his teeth into Link’s neck followed by his tongue, twists his hand around the head of Link’s cock, and hits his prostate all at once. This sends Link over the edge with a shout, twitching in Rhett’s hand and shooting thick white ropes over Rhett’s shirt; Link nearly topples out of his lap with the force of his orgasm if it weren’t for the death grip on the back of the chair. His mind clears, for just a moment, every wave of pleasure sobering him for a brief time.

Breathing heavily, Link sinks against Rhett and kisses his cheek. Rhett groans and kisses him properly, both hands now gripping Link around the hips as he fucks into him. He follows fast and desperate, holding Link still in his lap, entire body tensing and releasing. Link squeezes around him, milks every last drop out of him, and lets his hands roam. He kisses Rhett’s sweaty forehead while he finishes and slumps into the chair. 

“You ruined my shirt,” Rhett huffs after a silent moment. Link rests his forehead on Rhett’s shoulder and laughs. 

“And your pants.” He punctuates his words with a wiggle. “And you ruined my pants first.”

Rhett laughs, too. “I guess I did,” he mumbles. Link is about to say something, sits back to do so, but Rhett is staring at him with that _look_ and he’s bringing a hand up to sweep Link’s sweaty hair off his forehead. Swallowing so hard his throat clicks, Link enjoys the feeling before it gets taken away. “How we gonna walk outta here?”

Link shrugs, says, “I don’t know. Let’s just--” He can’t finish. Rhett drops his hand quickly and his eyes widen slightly. “Nevermind. Help me up.” He taps Rhett on the chest and Rhett helps him lift off his lap, wincing at the sting.

While they’re redressing and fixing their clothes quietly, Link can hear Rhett sighing, sometimes mumbling to himself. Then he’s touching Link on the shoulder, asking, “Nevermind what?” and Link nearly loses it. 

Instead of answering--_I want us to stay right here, I don’t want you to let go, I want to take you home_\--he twists the cap on the bottle and tucks it safely in its drawer. He stands and straightens his messy suit, pats Rhett on the chest once, then leaves silently. But he doesn’t make it very far in the hallway because he’s being yanked by the hand and crowded against the wall, in the open where anyone could see, and Rhett is kissing him. 

“Nevermind _what_, Link?” he asks again. “Don’t walk out on me.”

Link glares and grabs his wrist to drag him towards the elevators, hoping nobody notices them leaving in their current state. His pants are sticky and his shirt is damp with whiskey, and Rhett isn’t any better off, probably looks worse than him with his cum covered shirt and his stained pants. Thankfully nobody sees them, or if they do they don’t bring attention to it. 

They’re both too inebriated to drive so they share a cab. Rhett gives the driver his address, because his apartment is closer, and climbs into the backseat with Link. “_Link_,” he grumbles and Link throws himself into Rhett’s lap, cradles his cheeks in his hands, kisses him deep so he can’t talk anymore. But Rhett’s having none of it. “Nevermind what?”

The drive to Rhett’s apartment is only a few minutes long, and Link spends the entire ride distracting Rhett with his mouth. They make out sloppily, hands roaming, hips rocking, Link ignoring every question Rhett throws at him until they’re tripping out of the cab and across the pavement to the front lobby. 

Rhett uses the elevator ride to pin Link against the wall, murmur into his ear, “Nevermind what? Answer me.”

They make their way out of the elevator and down the hallway to Rhett’s apartment, Link leading the way silently. He’s determined he’s not going to say anything. Inside, he practically drags Rhett to the bed, gets him undressed in record time, then himself. 

When he bounces on the bed Rhett wraps big hands around his ankles and hauls him across the mattress until he’s got his legs around Rhett’s waist, then he’s leaning over Link and kissing his throat, mumbling, “Nevermind what? Link, _please_.” 

Link shakes his head and rocks his hips, cock sliding along Rhett’s and filling with every thrust. He’s impossibly hard for the second time tonight, moaning loudly, sheets bunched in his hands. Rhett finds the lube and uses it work him open nice and slow, properly compared to earlier in the evening. He says nothing and Link thinks maybe he’s finally given up.

He’s proven wrong when Rhett, huffing and sweaty, bending Link’s legs towards his own chest and pushing his cock in, groans. “Come on, answer me. Nevermind what?” His voice has taken on an edge of desperation. 

Link wraps his legs around Rhett’s waist, digs his heels into his thighs to drive him deeper. _Fuck_, he can’t take it anymore so he slips his arms around Rhett’s neck and shoulders, tugs him down into a hot kiss. 

Desperately he tangles his fingers in Rhett’s hair and buries his face in Rhett’s neck, curses loud when that sweet spot is hit. 

“Fine, fine, _fine_. You wanna hear it?” 

Rhett whines and presses an open mouthed kiss to the side of Link’s neck. “Yeah, I do.” So Link holds him tightly and clings to him while Rhett fucks him slow and deep, a far cry from earlier. 

“You, _fuck, Rhett_!” Link squeezes his eyes shut. “You looked at me like _that_, like you always do,” he starts then stops, chest tight and aching. “_Rhett_, Rhett, dammit, harder, come on.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol still buzzing through his veins or the ache that settled in his ribs a long time ago, but he’s suddenly having to force back hot tears. Rhett doesn’t notice. He never notices. 

“Rhett, you acted like you--_fuck_, nevermind,” Link moans and tips his head back into the pillows and just holds on.

“Nevermind what, Link?” he asks one more time, rearing back to look Link in the face. And the look is back, his eyes are shining and he looks a little soft, a little bit like he cares. 

“Nothing,” Link answers quietly. Then, “Just shut up and fuck me.” 

Rhett kisses him and Link lets him and the night goes without an answer.


	16. synonyms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute since I posted anything for this. But I'm back for a little bit, at least. Huge thanks to Lindsay (pinecontents) for dong a quick read through and beta!
> 
> Enjoy! Comment, if you like it.

_It isn’t love_.

Brows crinkled, Link openly stares at Rhett across the room, blue eyes searching for even a hint of attention from the other man. Just thinking about Rhett glancing over at him, sneaking a peek while Tim has his head buried in his phone, maybe smiling shyly, is enough to set Link’s heart racing and his blood simmering. Rhett looks good today in a mustard suit and navy patterned button down; he’s sporting no tie, as it is nearing the end of the work day, and the top three buttons are undone. He’s casual and carefree, and it makes Link grip the arm of his rolling chair tightly.

_It isn’t love. I swear it isn’t_.

Link kicks his feet up on the edge of his desk, uses the cubicle walls to remain partially hidden while he watches the two men talk and laugh over something on Tim’s phone. Rhett’s leaning, one hand bracing himself on the top of Tim’s cubicle, other hand on Tim’s desk while he grins and talks loudly. He’s animated whenever he talks, more so when he laughs. Link is fascinated. He’s even more fascinated when Rhett laughs so hard he grabs his chest and pats Tim on the back hard enough to shake the smaller man in his chair.

Something seizes in Link’s chest and he thinks, not for the first time in the last four years, _it isn’t love_. It can’t be love. Link leans backwards in his chair to get a better look at Rhett. He’s moved to grab a chair so he can sit by Tim. Link watches him sit gingerly, folding his tall frame into the short chair and running a hand through his hair. No, this man with his golden curls and beard and those eyes and that smile does not elicit any feeling akin to _love_. 

Sighing heavily, Link yanks his phone out of his pocket and quickly opens up a new search: _another word for love_. As he types and waits for results, he glances over at Rhett again. This time he’s rocking his chair back and forth, swaying in time to something coming from Tim’s computer now. Link doesn’t feel a clench in his chest at how cute it is. _He doesn’t_.

The search results finally load and Link selects the top webpage he sees, something about synonyms for love. He taps it and puts his feet down on the floor, turns to his desk for some privacy, and hunches over his phone. If anybody were to walk by it would look like he’s just playing a game on his phone, no big deal. He certainly wouldn’t be looking up another way to describe something as stupid as _love_. 

The list is long, but the first word that catches Link’s eye is _infatuation_. Is this infatuation? If not love, then it must be this, it must be infatuation. It must be when he sits here staring at Rhett, taking in every detail he can see from this distance. Like the way those green-grey eyes crinkle around the corners when Rhett smiles, or the way he throws his head back in laughter. It must be this because the way Rhett’s cheeks go round and blushing whenever he sees Link staring makes Link’s breath _whoosh_ out of his lungs too fast, leaving him breathless. 

_No, this can’t be it, either_.

The next word that Link is intrigued by is _worship_. If not love or infatuation, is it worship? Does Link worship Rhett? It must be when he’s got Rhett underneath him, fingertips trailing delicately along heaving ribs, memorizing every dip and curve for when he’s alone. It must be worship when Link is leaving spit-slick trails on Rhett’s skin, from collarbone to sternum, sternum to belly, further and further still until he’s got his mouth around Rhett’s cock. This has to be it, it has to be fucking _worship_ when Link curls his tongue around the head and laps up every drip of precum spilling out as Rhett pulses with arousal. 

_No, no, that’s not the right word_.

The third word Link comes across is _tenderness_. This has to be it. If it isn’t love or infatuation or worship, what about tenderness? This is the closest to love Link can get without actually using the word to describe these feelings. So it must be tenderness when Link slips his hands around the back of Rhett’s neck and caresses those rounded, blushing cheeks with his thumbs, both of them smiling softly because for one second they don’t hate each other. When he catches a thumb on Rhett’s bottom lip, kisses the faint freckles under his finger, sweeps his tongue inside, then that _has to be_ tenderness instead of love. This must be tenderness-not-love in a post-sex glow, threading his hands through Rhett’s hair and scraping his fingernails lightly over Rhett’s scalp as they both come down from the clouds. 

_This isn’t it. What the fuck is it_?

Link groans softly and bangs his head on the desktop once, twice, a third time. It hurts, but at least it eases the ache creeping its way through his chest. He glances over his shoulder to see what Rhett is doing now, and finds Rhett quickly shifting his gaze to Tim, pink rising in his cheeks because he was caught for a moment. Link sighs and goes back to those three words, the only ones that really stood out to him. 

In Rhett, in moments where the other man has his guard down for even a second, Link sees the same things.

He sees the infatuation when he catches Rhett staring in the breakroom, intense gaze sweeping over Link’s body like he can’t get enough and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth. This always sets Link’s nerves on fire. He sees it when, after another round of rough sex, Rhett is watching closely from hidden eyes, head pillowed on his arms as he lays on his stomach and thinks Link doesn’t notice while he dresses. Surely that’s infatuation, right?

Link sees the worship, too. When Rhett uses his big hands to touch every part of Link possible, it is electrifying. Rhett uses his teeth to leave little nips and nibbles on all of Link’s most sensitive spots; he works his way across Link’s bowstring tight body, punching the breath right out of his chest with each mark left behind. He takes his time with both mouth and hands to bring Link to the edge, those lips wrapped around Link’s cock and a huge hand cradling his balls, other hand bringing heavy comfort on his waist when Link whimpers and moans. Dammit, no, it can’t be worship.

What about the tenderness? Link swears he sees it when Rhett thinks Link isn’t paying attention. It’s the way he presses his lips to the back of Link’s neck on the spot that makes Link shiver and then it’s the way he smooths his palms around Link’s trembling thighs while Link tries to remember how to breathe. And it’s _tenderness_ in those soft moments, where Rhett is sleepy and warm and forgetful of who he’s with for a minute as he kisses Link, runs his hands through Link’s sweaty hair, down the curve of his arched back, up again to do it all over. In these moments, Link swears this is it. 

The phone pings with a new message. Link closes the word list, chest constricting so tight he’s afraid he won’t be able to inhale, and opens the message from Rhett. 

_meet me in the partner bathroom, 10 minutes_

Link sighs, thumb hovering over the keys and ready to tell him _no_. Another comes through.

_ya look like that bad mood needs to be fucked out of you ;)_

Link frowns, creases his brow so hard a headache begins to form the longer he stares at the two texts. He’s tempted to say no, flip Rhett off over his shoulder, stand up and leave work ten minutes early. But he doesn’t. Instead he straightens and removes his tie to shove into his bag. He sighs heavily and resigns himself to the fact that maybe this is all just in his head. Rhett won’t change, neither of them will. They will keep doing this imaginary dance called _not-love_ and they’ll keep toeing the fragile line they drew when Link kissed Rhett so soft and sweet during their third year. 

No, it isn’t infatuation or worship or tenderness, but Link damn near wishes it was.


End file.
